What awoke Dorothy she could not tell. For the first few moments she lay still, realizing that there was a deadly chill in the air outside of the heavy mass of bedclothing that weighed her body down. The frosty air did not seem at all like the air of the room she occupied with Tavia at Glenwood Hall.
Then—with something of a shock—she remembered that she was not with Tavia, or at Glenwood Hall!
She felt the pressure of the warm little body of Celia, curled up like a kitten in a ball, beside her in the bed of the best room at Mrs. Hogan’s house. There was light enough in the room for her to see the grim, bare nature of the place—its ugly furniture and the plain rag carpet on the floor.
She looked at the uncurtained window and to her amazement1 saw that, from bottom to top, it was masked with snow. It looked as though the drift was higher than the very top of the window!
108 Was it still snowing, or had the storm ceased? Not a sound came from without; nor could she detect a sound within the house.
There was no clock in the room and Dorothy’s own watch was in the kitchen where she had left her clothing. She stirred about to gain an easier position, and the little body of Celia Moran uncurled.
“Oh! oh! Tom—Dorothy——”
The murmur2 of the child’s voice served to wake Dorothy properly. Celia was dreaming—of Dorothy herself, and of her lost brother. The older girl kissed her, laid her touseled head upon the pillow, and then crept out of the warm feathers into the cold, cold room.
There was a matchbox on the mantel behind the small sheet-iron stove. With chattering3 teeth the Glenwood girl reached the matches, stooped by the door of the stove, scratched the lucifer, and ignited the shavings and corncobs which made sufficient kindling4 in the firebox to set off the hardwood sticks piled in above the tinder.
The fire began to roar almost instantly. She darted6 back across the icy floor and crept again into bed. Whether it was morning, or not, Dorothy determined7 to have a fire and somehow kill the deadly chill of that guest room.
Celia still slept. The yellow light of the fire began to send dancing reflections upon the ceiling109 through the perforated draft of the stove. Dorothy lay there and listened to the fire’s roar; but there was no other sound in the house for some time.
The atmosphere of the room perceptibly changed. There was a little blue haze8 in the air and the smell of burning varnish9, for the careful Mrs. Hogan had painted the stove to keep it from rusting10 and perhaps this was the first time it had been used during the winter.
By and by Dorothy heard the creak of the stair under the heavy tread of the farm woman. It must, the schoolgirl judged, be time to rise; yet the snow drift kept out the morning light.
She heard Mrs. Hogan at the kitchen stove, raking down the ashes and rattling12 the dampers. By and by she came through the hall and opened the door.
“Ha!” she said. “Ye have a boomin’ fire—an’ all goin’ up the chimney, av coorse. Fuel is nothin’ to the rich. Git up out o’ that, Cely Moran! D’ye wanter lie abed all day? ’Tis long past sivin o’clock, and we’re snowed in to the second story—an’ still ’tis snowin’. Git up, I say!”
Meanwhile she had partly closed the back draft and the fire roared less angrily. Celia stirred sleepily.
“Good morning!” Dorothy said to Mrs.110 Hogan. “I am going to get up, too. Will you put my clothes in here? It is getting nice and warm now.”
“I’ll sind thim in by Cely. Git out o’ that bed, now—plague o’ me life! Scatter13 out inter11 the kitchen,” and she drove the little one before her as one would shoo a chicken.
“It really isn’t snowing now; is it?” cried Dorothy, before Mrs. Hogan could shut the door.
“Indade it is—snowin’ hard. I kin5 see it from me winder upstairs. But the house is drifted around, till there’s a bank before me kitchen door higher than the lintel. And me’ kitchen pump’s froze. Lucky there’s water in the tea kettle and I’ll soon have it thawed14. Ye’ll find water—or ice—in that pitcher15 yonder, Miss.”
The woman retreated. Celia, as soon as she had got into her own clothes, brought in Dorothy’s garments and hung them carefully on chairs about the stove to warm before the bigger girl put them on.
“You’re a dear little maid!” cried Dorothy. “Thank you.”
“I wish I could go to that school and work for you,” said Celia, wistfully. “Don’t you suppose I could?”
“I am afraid not, Celia,” returned Dorothy, yet wishing, too, that it were possible. “You try111 your best to please Mrs. Hogan. And meantime I’ll find your brother as quick as I can.”
Had Dorothy known what was written on that postal16 card from the secretary of the ironworkers’ union, which message had so puzzled her friend Tavia, she could not have spoken with the assurance she did.
Dorothy dressed hurriedly and managed to get enough of the ice in the pitcher melted, meanwhile, on the stove hearth18, to enable her to make her toilet. The sting of the icy water upon her eyes and temples served to wake her up and started her pulse at a quicker beat. She ran out into the smoky kitchen, to see Celia setting the table while Mrs. Hogan fried the usual pork and johnny cakes.
“Oh, that does smell so good!” cried the girl from Glenwood School.
Mrs. Hogan smiled—and her smile was rare indeed!—when she heard this. She considered that she could safely tack19 on an additional quarter for breakfast in the final bill she meant to present for Dorothy’s entertainment.
“Oh, see here!” exclaimed Celia, and ran to open the door. A white wall of packed snow faced them.
“Oh, dear me! we are really snowed in,” said Dorothy. “However will we manage to dig a way out?”
“Come away from that, now, ye little plague,”112 spoke17 Mrs. Hogan to Celia. “Arrah, now! see what ye’ve done. Looker that mess of snow on the floor.”
A hodful, at least, had become detached and fallen inward. Dorothy ran for the brush and dustpan which hung against the bricks behind the stove.
“I’ll clean it up, Mrs. Hogan,” she said. “You go about your work, Celia.”
“We’ll have to dig a tunnel through to the shed door after breakfast,” declared Mrs. Hogan. “We’ve got to get through the shed to the barn, an’ then into the hen house. Surely, we can’t l’ave the critters ter starve. And there’s no knowing when this storm will stop. Ye’ll not git to school this day, I’m thinkin’, me young lady.”
“I am only glad that I am not out there in the lane under all this snow,” replied Dorothy, gravely.
After breakfast she went upstairs with Celia to peer out at the storm. It was, indeed, a blizzard20. Scarcely a landmark21 was visible through the falling snow. The fences were, of course, long since drifted over; and the snow had been blown into the farmyard in a great mound22, piled against the side of the house to the sill of the second floor windows, and completely covering the roofs of the lower buildings.
Mrs. Hogan put a huge boiler23 on the stove when they came down. She had not thawed her113 pump as yet; but she opened the barricaded24 door and into this boiler shoveled25 snow, from time to time, until she had melted sufficient to well fill the receptacle, and had dug quite a cavern27 in the snowbank.
Then, dressed in her half-mannish costume, the Amazon set to work with a steel shovel26 to really excavate28 a tunnel through the drift to the woodshed door. Dorothy and Celia helped by “trimming” the sides and roof of the tunnel, and trampling29 down the excavated30 snow under foot.
The passage to the woodshed door was short. Beyond the shed the snow filled all the space to the stables, and was heaped fifteen feet high. They cut out the snow in blocks and heaped it to one side within the shed. In two hours Mrs. Hogan, working as though tireless, opened the way to the stables and they could feed the stock. Fortunately there was a trap between the barn and the hennery through which they could throw corn and oats to the flock.
Tunneling through the snowbank Celia thought to be lots of fun; and Dorothy found it amusing. Mrs. Hogan’s grim face and grimmer remarks, however, proved that she considered the situation quite serious.
“You young’uns kape yer feet dry. Have no chills, nor colds, nor other didoes, now; for ’tis no knowin’ how long ’twould take a dochter to114 git here through these drifts—an’ however would we git word to such, anyhow, I dunno?”
Dorothy and Celia wrapped shawls around their shoulders again and went to the upper windows to look out. Although the flakes31 were bigger now, and the snow was not gathering32 so fast, they could not see far along the lane; and not a moving object appeared upon the surface of the drifts.
“Oh, I’m glad you are here, Dorothy Dale,” whispered Celia. “It would jes’ be dreadful to be smothered33 in with snow like this, with only Mrs. Ann Hogan—yes, it would!”
收听单词发音 |
1
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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kindling
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| n. 点火, 可燃物 动词kindle的现在分词形式 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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varnish
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| n.清漆；v.上清漆；粉饰 | |
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rusting
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| n.生锈v.（使）生锈( rust的现在分词 ) | |
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inter
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| v.埋葬 | |
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rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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scatter
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| vt.撒，驱散，散开；散布/播；vi.分散，消散 | |
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thawed
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| 解冻 | |
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pitcher
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| n.(有嘴和柄的)大水罐；(棒球)投手 | |
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postal
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| adj.邮政的，邮局的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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blizzard
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| n.暴风雪 | |
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landmark
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| n.陆标，划时代的事，地界标 | |
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mound
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| n.土墩，堤，小山；v.筑堤，用土堆防卫 | |
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boiler
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| n.锅炉；煮器(壶，锅等) | |
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barricaded
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| 设路障于，以障碍物阻塞( barricade的过去式和过去分词 )； 设路障[防御工事]保卫或固守 | |
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25
shoveled
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| vt.铲，铲出（shovel的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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cavern
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| n.洞穴，大山洞 | |
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excavate
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| vt.挖掘，挖出 | |
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29
trampling
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| 踩( trample的现在分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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30
excavated
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| v.挖掘( excavate的过去式和过去分词 )；开凿；挖出；发掘 | |
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31
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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