The breaks Fenn made, in imparting the information, were caused by the sips of chocolate he took between his words. "We'll all go," decided Bart. "We'll be over our Christmas dinners by then." Finishing their chocolate the boys and girls walked together down the street on their way home. As they separated they wished each other the joys of the season. Christmas, which came next day, was celebrated in Darewell much as it is celebrated every where in Christian lands. There was happiness in the homes of the four chums, not only at the gifts which they received, but also over those they gave. Each one remembered Mrs. Perry and her two girls, and, it is safe to say, it was the best Christmas the widow's family had experienced since trouble came. "If only Willie was home now," Mrs. Perry said to Jane as they looked at the gifts which had come so unexpectedly to them, "we would be very happy." "Perhaps he will be with us next Christmas," Jane remarked, trying to comfort her mother. "Let us hope so anyhow. We are much more happy than we were the day before Thanksgiving when everything seemed so black." "Yes, thanks to those good boys," the widow replied. "Well, we will trust in Providence. Perhaps Willie may come back to us." The day of the Y. M. C. A. entertainment proved to be one of the coldest of the winter. It dawned with a dull leaden sky, filled with lowering clouds, and there was a nip to the air that made thick wraps a necessity. The wind, which had been blowing strongly in the morning, increased in violence as the day advanced until by evening it was blowing half a gale. But the boys and girls who crowded into the school auditorium did not mind this. It only made their cheeks redder, and though the wind did toss and tumble the hair of the girls it only caused them to look all the prettier, at least so Fenn thought, and he ought to know. "B-r-r-r! It's a regular hurricane!" exclaimed Bart as he and Alice entered the hall, where they found a number of their friends. The entertainment had not yet begun. "It must be getting colder," observed Ned. "What makes you think so?" asked Bart. "Your nose is as red as a beet." "It feels half frozen," Bart answered. "That comes of having such a big one. But it's a sign of greatness you know." "If we let you tell it," interposed Frank. The hall soon filled up and the entertainment was started. There was vocal and instrumental music and recitations. Jennie Smith rendered "Horatius at the Bridge" with all the energy she was capable of, and the four chums applauded vigorously. The wind was increasing in violence, and it rattled the windows so that at times it interfered with the singing. The janitor went about tightening the fastenings. "It's going to be a bad storm," Bart heard the man murmur as he adjusted the catches. "I hope it doesn't blow some of the chimneys down. One or two of 'em need pointing up, for the mortar's most out of 'em." "Is there any danger?" asked Bart in a whisper.