would arrive by and by from the railway station. She could merely say:
"Uncles don't need cards when their folks come to see them. I've come from mamma. She's gone to the pickley land to see papa. Just tell him Josephine. What's that stuff out there?"
She ran to the window, pulled the lace curtains apart, and peered out. The air was now full of great white flakes that whirled and skurried about as if in the wildest sort of play.
"What is it, Peter? Quick, what is it?" she demanded.
"Huh! Don't you know snow when you see it, little missy? Where you lived at all your born days?" he cried, surprised.
"Oh, just snow. Course I've seen it, coming here on the cars. It was on the ground, though, not in the air and the sky. I've lived with mamma. Now I've come to live with Uncle Joe. Why don't you tell him? If a lady called to see my mamma do you s'pose big Bridget wouldn't say so?"
"I'se goin'," he said, and went.
