Charles-Norton did not catch the significance of this remark right away. Perched on one foot, just in the act of taking wing, he had become absorbed in the examination of a fluffy and cold little white object which had just then settled upon his nose. He looked at it close as it disappeared between his fingers in a silver trickle. It was a snow-flake. He glanced upward; the sky was very gray. "Goosie, the flour is gone," repeated Dolly. Charles-Norton came back to earth. "Well, we'll have to buy some more," he said, again preparing for flight. Dolly was silent, evidently considering this remark. "Have you--have you any more--money?" she asked at length, hesitatingly. Charles-Norton dropped his wings. "No," he said. "No, that I haven't--not a cent. It's--it's gone. Have you?" "_I_ haven't any," said Dolly. Her eyes were very big. Charles-Norton stood there motionless a while, a bit disturbed. Then his lower jaw advanced; he shrugged his shoulders: "Well--I'll see about it; to-morrow," he said airily, and was off. But he didn't see about anything "to-morrow" or after. He had a fine time that day. A snow-flurry was passing down the Sierra, and he went with it along the crest, mile after mile, to the South, the center of its soft white whirl, its winged tutelary God. When he returned, that night, a snow-carpet extended down from the top of the chain, down the slopes, to the edge of the meadow. Dolly was inside of the cabin, close to the fireplace. "Ooh, Goosie, but it's cold," she cried. "Yes," admitted Charles-Norton; "it is cold." His wings were encased in ice, and he sparkled rosily in the fire's glow. The next day, though, was warmer; the carpet of snow gradually retreated up the slopes. It remained on the crest, however, frozen and scintillating. It was a world of increased beauty that now spread beneath Charles-Norton. The crest glittered from horizon to horizon; here and there little lakes gleamed like hard diamonds; and lower, the willows in the hollows lay very light, like painted vapor. The next morning Dolly said: "There's no sugar, Goosie." "Coffee is better without sugar," said Charles-Norton, sententiously. For a few days the young couple, with wry faces, drank unsweetened coffee. Then this difficulty disappeared. Taking up the tin before breakfast, Dolly discovered that there was no more coffee. The last of the canned fruit followed, and the last slice of bacon. "Thank the Lord we can live on trout," said Charles-Norton, piously. As if in answer, the next morning, the trout refused to take his bait of red flannel. Alone there on the shore of the lake, while Dolly waited within the cabin, Charles-Norton passed a bad quarter-of-an-hour. Then he went up the slopes back of the meadow and captured a handful of grasshoppers springing there in the rising sun. The trout took them with gratitude. "Whee!" said Charles-Norton, when at last he had his catch.