20 DAYS IN THE OPEN 



idea in which direction the road lies, he emerges 

 into a clearing and sees before him a group of farm 

 buildings. They are certainly unfamiliar; but 

 some one must live here and he can get directions 

 as to his shortest way home. Who is that in the 

 doorway? It cannot be Mrs. Woodman whose 

 home is only a short half-mile from his own? But 

 it is, and, to make his joy complete, this is baking 

 day and the good woman hands him out an apple 

 turnover. All turnovers are good, but that one 

 was far and away the best ever baked. A hungry 

 boy and an apple turnover form a great combina- 

 tion. 



It would not do to say that the boy and the brook 

 were inseparable companions, for there were long 

 months when the Frost King had everything his 

 own way and the merry stream found it hard work 

 to maintain its appearance even on the shallow rif- 

 fles. Then there were swift flights down the hill- 

 sides for the boy, and long journeys up again drag- 

 ging his sled. Often in the long winter nights he 

 heard the half-smothered gurgle of the near-by 

 brook, and wondered where the trout lived when 

 the thermometer was below zero. 



Even in the summer days the two friends could 

 not be together all the time. A mile or so over the 

 hill was the brown school-house to which the boy 

 must make his pilgrimages five days each week for 

 three months at a time, and where he learned, 

 helped by the pictures, that three cherries and two 



