"Oh, yes indeed; my father was with me and we wandered around, it seemed for hours, till we saw a light and got to a farmhouse, miles away from where we thought we were. I was so stiff with cold I couldn't walk. I was a kid then"--he hastily added, "and my father had to carry me to the house. He froze his ears and his nose that time." "Well, this is the most awful storm I ever knew," said Miss Grey. "I feel now as if I should run away from this place as soon as my term is up." "Don't," said Harry earnestly; "you're the best teacher we ever had--don't go away!" For some time not much was said between the two watchers. The children--most of them--slept. "Harry," said Miss Grey, after a while, "you didn't answer my question of how long these storms usually last." Harry looked a little confused, for he had purposely not answered it, fearing to discourage her. "Sometimes," he said, hesitatingly, "it is over in a few hours, but sometimes," he added more slowly, "one has lasted two or three days." "Oh!" cried Miss Grey in horror, "what can I do with the children! They'll be hungry as bears when they wake!" "Oh, they'll surely find us as soon as morning comes," said Harry. "I wish we could show a light now; they might be right on us and not see us." "That's true--but there's no possible way of making one. We ought to have candles and matches, and I'll see that we have--if we ever get out of this," she added, in a lower tone. After what seemed interminable hours, daylight began to creep through the windows. It gave little hope, for the wind was strong as ever, and nothing could be seen but a world of whirling, rushing, blinding snow. And before it was fully light the children began to wake; soon they were all awake and most of them crying with hunger and fright. Then the scenes of the afternoon were repeated. The worn-out teacher sang and told stories, and led in games till she was ready to drop with exhaustion. About noon a shout startled them, and Harry rushed to the door; indeed all started for it in a mad rush, but Miss Grey ordered them back so sternly that they obeyed. In a moment the room was full of men--or were they some strange snow-monsters?--clad in white from head to foot, and so disguised by the snow that no child could know his own father. With joy and relief, Miss Grey almost fainted, while the men, after assuring themselves that all the children were safe, listened to Harry's animated story of the terrible night, and then applauded Miss Grey for her heroic labors. She did not look heroic now, for she had sunk back in her chair almost as white as the world outside the windows. When the weary men had rested a little and warmed themselves, the children were wrapped up in extra wraps the men had brought, and Miss Grey rallied and prepared to set out on her fight for life, through the still raging storm.