"Bushels of chestnuts?" questioned Roger, who had only seen as many of the shiny brown fellows at one time as could be heaped on some street vendor's stand. "Yes, sir, bushels," maintained Adrian, "and, do you know, they'll sell for about five dollars a bushel this year." "I should think they might, judging by the few you get from the Italians for a dime," said Roger, thinking of how often he had bought the roasted or boiled nuts from the stand at the corner near his home. The boys now set off, racing towards the house. They spent the evening reading and talking. About nine o'clock, when Adrian stepped to the spout at the side door to get a fresh drink of water, he came back with red cheeks and announced that it was growing much colder. That night Jack Frost descended on Cardiff valley with all his forces. It got colder and colder, a tingling, vigorous cold that snapped the nails in the clapboards on the house. The morning dawned clear, and a breath of the fresh bracing air made the blood race through the veins. "This is suthin' like weather," observed Mr. Kimball, rubbing his hands briskly, as he went out to the barn before breakfast to feed and water the cows and horses. "I'm glad it didn't catch us nappin', 'ith th' grapes not picked." He broke a thin sheet of ice on the horse trough. "Thar'll be skatin' ef this keeps on," he added with a twinkle in his blue eyes, as he saw Roger and Adrian racing out after him. They leaped and bounded, for the bracing air made them feel like young colts running in a big field. Roger seemed to have improved very much in his health in a short time, and he was now a good second to his cousin, a most sturdy youth. "Reckon it's goin' t' snow," said Mr. Kimball, as he carried a pail of water into the barn. "To-day, dad?" asked Adrian, anxiously. "Not afore night, I guess," said the farmer, "but I kin smell snow," and he sniffed hard. "Well, I'm glad you can't smell it until night," laughed Adrian. "Roger 'n' I are going after chestnuts to-day." "Wa'al, I haint no objections," remarked Mr. Kimball, holding the pail of water where Ned, the horse, could reach it. "Guess a trip chestnuttin' 'll be good fer both on ye. I'm goin' t' kill hogs t'-morrow, snow er no snow." "That'll be lots of fun," said Adrian to Roger. "Come on, let's eat, 'n' then we'll go." The boys made a hurried breakfast and then, warmly clad, they started for the woods, carrying bags in which to gather the nuts. They had about two miles to walk, and when they reached the chestnut grove, Adrian saw he had not been wrong in his surmise that there would be a heavy fall. They found the ground covered with the burs, which had burst open, showing the shining brown nuts inside. "Hurrah!" shouted Adrian. "Get to work! Here they are! Don't let the squirrels and chipmunks beat us."