"And it is not wet," added Peter who was trying to roll a snowball out of the white flakes that were piling themselves on the ground with amazing quickness. "I don't care," said Ann. "I know mother wouldn't like us to be in in it or out in it. I'm going to knock at the door of that house this minute and ask if they won't let us stay there till the storm's over." "All right," said Rudolf, "only I hope the people who live there don't happen to be any relation of the Warming-pan." It was a dreadful thought. The three children looked at the house and hesitated. Then Rudolf laughed, drew his precious sword, which he had fastened into the belt of his pajamas, and mounted the steps, the others following behind him. "You be all ready to run," he whispered, "if you don't like the looks of the person who comes. Now!" And he knocked long and loud upon the blue and white striped door. [Illustration] [Illustration] CHAPTER III A VISIT TO THE GOOSE The door flew open almost before Rudolf had stopped knocking, but there was nothing very alarming about the person who stood on the threshold. Ann said afterward she had thought at first it was a Miss Spriggins who came sometimes to sew for her mother, but it was not; it was only a very large gray goose neatly dressed in blue and white bed-ticking, with a large white apron tied round her waist and wearing big spectacles with black rims to them. "Nothing to-day, thank you," said the Goose. "But please--" began Rudolf. "No soap, no baking powder, no lightning rods, no hearth-brooms, no cake tins, no life insurance--" rattled the Goose so rapidly that the children could hardly understand her--"nothing at all to-day, _thank_ you!" "But _we_ want something," Ann cried, "we want to come in!" "I never let in peddlers," said the Goose, and she slammed the door in their faces. As she slammed it one of her broad apron-strings caught in the crack, and Rudolf seized the end of it. When the Goose opened the door an inch or so to free herself he held on firmly and said: "Tell us, please, are you the Warming-pan's aunt?" The Gray Goose looked immensely pleased, but shook her head. "Nothing so simple," said she, "nor, so to speak, commonplace, since the relationship or connection if you will have it, is, though perfectly to be distinguished, not always, as it were, entirely clear, through his great-grandfather who, as I hope you are aware, was a Dutch-Oven, having run away with a cousin of my mother's uncle's stepfather, who was three times married, numbers one, two and three all having children but none of 'em resembling one another in the slightest, which, as you may have perceived, is only the beginning of the story, but if you will now come in, not forgetting to wipe your feet, and try to follow me very carefully, I'll be delighted to explain all particulars."