WHAT THE SNOIV-MAN DID 949

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blowing your mittens and looking like an owl, and lend a
hand here. I’m in for breaking off this military gentle-
man’s head and building him up higher, and clapping it
on again. The shoulder-straps are easy to change.”

“Viddle for the straps,” broke forth Sydney, quite out
of patience. “If you heap up the shoulders, there ’s your
body too long, and your arms too short, and all your
features too little.”

“That would n’t make a bit of difference,’ was Will’s
ready answer. “We could just shift the belt up, and I’d
alter the buttons in less than no time. Come on, Charley!”

“That ’s just like you, Will,” said Sydney. “T declare
if he does n’t think more of regimentals than a drum-
major. I’m goin’ to scoop out the legs—no use in havin’
the old general run down all in one solid piece.”

“Who would n’t go in for regimentals ?” retorted Will.
“T never saw anything like the way all these snow-buttons
have made a soldier of the old chap. Why, he was n’t any-
thing without them. The more I look at him, the more T
can see no two ways about it. A man, whether he’s flesh
or snow, is n’t more than half a man till you make him a
soldier.” :

Don’t you see how it all ended? Many a time has the
grass grown ereen and withered over the spot where the
great snow-soldier melted away; but the thoughts that

ame into those four boyish heads that day have kept on
growing and gathering streneth. How little they knew
then, as they sang, and shouted, and whistled, and clapped
the snow on here and there, that the fancies flitting to