"We had a pretty lonely afternoon. Nearly always, when we went to see Mrs. Watson, we had a very good time, but with that great wall of snow outside the house, and the weather growing colder and colder, so that it couldn't melt, it was impossible to be very happy, no matter how much we tried. It seemed awful to go to bed feeling so badly, though I knew that father would be after us in the morning. Every little while, all the afternoon, I would flatten my nose against the window, and after looking at the snow a minute, I would shut my eyes tight, and pray to God that he would have somebody come and help us soon. And I really thought he would answer. "When supper time came, and the clock struck six, we were all real glad, I guess, for we hadn't eaten so very much for dinner, and were pretty hungry; besides, supper would give us something to do. But there wasn't much of it--no bread, and no milk--only a little cold turkey for each of us, for the coal was all gone, and we couldn't cook anything. The room was growing cold. I put mother's shawl around me, and Fred put on his overcoat, while Mrs. Watson got her shawl too. We had to light a candle long before supper time, it got dark so early, when only a little bit of light could come in at the windows. "So there we sat, in the cold kitchen. Once or twice Mrs. Watson suggested that my brother and I should go to bed, but he was sure he didn't want to--neither did I. So she got out an old game of checkers, and we played awhile, till we grew sleepy in spite of ourselves, and I dropped off into dreamland with my head on Mrs. Watson's lap, and Fred with his on the table. I didn't waken till the clock struck ten, and then I sat up and looked about me in surprise. I could hardly remember where I was, when suddenly I heard a dull thud, which made all of us jump. "We opened the front door wide. Just as we did so, a great mass of snow came into our faces, soon a snow-shovel appeared, and next--the face of my father! O, how glad we were! He stepped into the room, and threw his arms about Fred and me, covering us with a coating of snow. Two or three more men came in then, one of them with a basket which had been sent by my mother, and as Mrs. Watson took off the cover, I spied a huge piece of bread and butter, and contented myself with that. You can't think how good it was to have some bread again! It seemed a year since I had had any! "That's about all there is to tell, except that in the morning father drove Fred and me home in the sleigh, just as we had come. The reason the verse made me think of that Thanksgiving was that I had never before realized how valuable and necessary bread was, and why Jesus called himself 'the bread of life.' "My brother told me, a great many years later, that he believed that day was the first time he ever really made up his mind to come to the 'Bread of life,' and never hunger again." "Why didn't they come sooner?" asked Rollo.