SNOWED UP. 307 
glow of blissful recollection at the sight. Ah ! if you 
could have seen the pretty gifts, the brave little pine 
(which all the managers agreed couldn't possibly have 
been used had it been an inch taller) ; the improvised 
tableaux, wherein Bob successively personated an organ- 
grinder, a pug dog, and Hamlet, amid thunders of ap- 
plause from the brakemen and engineers ! Then the 
passengers sang a simple Christmas carol, Miss Raymond 
leading with her pure soprano, and Bob chiming in like 
the diapason of an organ. 
Just as the last words died away, a sudden hush came 
over the audience. Could it be an illusion, or did they 
hear the muffled but sweet notes of a church bell faintly 
sounding without ? Tears came into the eyes of some of 
the roughest of the emigrants as they listened, and 
thought of a wee belfry somewhere in the Fatherland, 
where the Christmas bells were calling to prayers that 
night. The sound of the bells ceased, and the merriment 
went on, while the young man, with eyebrows lighter than 
ever, but with radiant face, let himself quietly into the 
car unnoticed. It had been his own thought to creep out 
into the storm, clear away the snow from the nearer loco- 
motive bell, and ring it while the gayety was at its height. 
All this indeed there was, and more ; but to Bob the 
joy and sweetness of the evening centred in one bright 
face. What mattered it if the wind roared and moaned 
about the lonely, snow-drifted train, while he could look 
into those brown eyes, and listen to that voice for whose 
