“I’m sure the Stone children will love these dolls and the cookies as well,” declared Miss Gordon. “As for the baskets of Christmas food, we’ll decide later on, whether or not to send them.”
Though the Brownie leader did not say so, she had talked the matter over the night before with Mrs. Gordon. They had been unable to agree on whether or not the Stones would resent receiving help. And Grandmother Gordon had argued that she still was unconvinced the Stones were a deserving family.
So the matter of sending a turkey and other substantial food, remained undecided.
During the next two days, the Brownies were too busy to leave the Gordon farm. They made decorations for the house, cut spruce boughs for the windows, and baked more cookies and made fancy candies.
Now, Mrs. Gordon had noticed that her supplies were beginning to dwindle. So late one afternoon she reminded Grandfather Gordon that if they were to have a Christmas feast, he must take the bobsled and drive to Goshen.
Grandfather Gordon stretched his long legs toward the crackling log and yawned. “Why drive all the way to Goshen?” he asked. “That’s nearly twenty miles. Can’t I get everything you want at Deerford?”
“The stores there never have what I need,” complained his wife. “This time I have a special list and it’s a long one.”
“Goshen it must be then,” sighed Grandfather Gordon. “I may as well start early in the morning.”
He telephoned Mr. Jeffert to ask if he might pick up anything for him at Goshen.
“I’ll ride along if you’ll stop for me,” Mr. Jeffert said. “Meet you at eight o’clock.”
Now the next morning before Grandfather Gordon hitched the horses, he remarked that the sky looked very dark.
“Wouldn’t be surprised if we’re in for a heavy snow before nightfall,” he told Grandmother Gordon. “I’ll get along as fast as I can.”
Soon after Mr. Gordon had driven away with the bobsled, the flakes began to flutter down. So fast did they fall that the entire sky seemed full of moist feathers.
The Brownies loved the snow. All morning they played out in it, building a hut near the barn.
However, by lunch time a sharp wind had sprung up, so that it no longer was pleasant to be out-of-doors.
Looking like ghosts in their heavily coated garments, the Brownies tramped into the house to toast themselves by the fire. The snow kept falling steadily, driving against the windows and banking up so that one could not readily see outside.