The Snow-Storm. 17

little money. These dollars must be got, and hidden away in
an old pocket-book for the time when Job would be a man.
If Job had gone as well, who would have taken care of the
cow and the fowls?

Next morning Job was awakened by the Angora cat. Pussy
had jumped on his breast, and was licking his cheek with a lit-
tle red tongue. The fact of the matter was, she had been up
a long while, and was becoming very much bored, as well as
hungry. Job sprang out of bed, and ran into the kitchen.
Something strange had happened! The old clock ticked
solemnly in the corner, pointing a hand, as if in reproof, at
the hour of ten. Yes, it was ten o’clock, and Job had never
slept so late before. The kitchen looked just the same. There
was the little table by the window, where Grandfather's large
Bible lay, and the shelf above, with the conch-shell on it. The
fire was out, and it was dreadfully cold. Job pulled aside the
curtain, and peeped out. All the world had grown white. It
was snowing. While he slept the storm had come, filling the
ravines, covering the low shrubbery, and crowning the mount-
ains with fleecy masses. Job was not afraid of the snow; he
was used to it. He kindled a fire, and both he and the cat
warmed themselves. Next he tried to open the house door,
and found it already banked up by a drift. Job’s face grew
very long. How should he reach the cow? There was food
and wood enough in the house to keep him alive, but the cow
must not starve. The cottage was small and poor, consisting
of two rooms, and an attic above. Job ran up-stairs, and looked
out of the attic window. He there saw a gray sky, the air
misty with falling flakes, and the wide sheet of snow below.

B