"DID the Hollow Tree People and their company sleep in their chairs all
night?" asks the Little Lady, as soon as she has finished her supper.
"And were they snowed in when they woke up next morning?"
The Story Teller is not quite ready to answer. He has to fill his pipe
first, and puff a little and look into the fire before he sits down, and
the Little Lady climbs into her place. The Little Lady knows the Story
Teller, and waits. When he begins to rock a little she knows he has
remembered, and then pretty soon he tells her about the "Snowed-In"
Literary Club.
Well, the Hollow Tree People went to sleep there by the fire and they
stayed asleep a long while, for they were tired with all the good times
and all the good things to eat they had been having. And when they woke
up once, they thought it was still night, for it was dark, though they
thought it must be about morning, because the fire was nearly out, and
Mr. 'Possum said if there was anybody who wasn't too stiff he wished
they'd put on a stick of wood, as he was frozen so hard that he knew if
he tried to move he'd break.
So Mr. Turtle, who had been drawn up mostly into his shell, and Mr. Dog,
who was used to getting up at all hours of the night, stretched and
yawned and crept down after some sticks and dry pieces and built up a
good fire, and pretty soon they were all asleep again, as sound as ever.
And when they woke up next time it was still just as dark, and the fire
had gone almost out again, and Mr. 'Coon and Mr. Crow, too, said they
didn't understand it, at all, for a fire like that would generally keep
all night and all day too, and here two fires had burned out and it was
still as dark as ever. Then Mr. Crow lit a splinter and looked at the
clock, and said he must have forgotten to wind it, or maybe it was
because it was so cold, as it had stopped a little after twelve, and Mr.
'Possum said that from the way he felt it was no wonder the clock had
stopped, for if he could tell anything by his feelings it must be at
least day after to-morrow. He said he felt so empty that every time he
breathed he could hear the wind whistle through his ribs.
That made Mr. Rabbit think of something, and he stepped over to the
window. Then he pushed it up a little, and put out his hand. But he
didn't put it out far, for it went right into something soft and cold.
Mr. Rabbit came over to where Mr. Crow was poking up the fire, bringing
some of the stuff with him.
"Now," he said, "you can all see what's the matter. We're snowed in. The
snow is up over the window, and that's why it's so dark. It may be up
over the top of the tree, and we may have been asleep here for a week,
for all we know."
Then they all gathered around to look at the snow, and went to the
window and got some more, and tried to tell whether it was day or night,
and Mr. Crow and Mr. 'Coon and Mr. 'Possum ran up-stairs to their rooms,
and called back that it was day, for the snow hadn't come quite up to
the tops of their windows.
And it was day, sure enough, and quite late in the afternoon at that,
but they couldn't tell just what day it was, or whether they had slept
one night, or two nights, or even longer.
Well, of course the first thing was to get something to eat and a big
fire going, and even Mr. 'Possum scrambled around and helped carry
wood, so he could get warm quicker. They still had a good deal to eat in
the Hollow Tree, and they were not much worried. Mr. 'Possum and Mr.
'Coon remembered another time they were snowed in, when Mr. Crow had fed
them on Johnnie cake and gravy, and they thought that if everything else
gave out it would be great fun to live like that again.
When they had finished eating breakfast, or dinner, or whatever it was,
for it was nearer supper-time than anything else, they began to think of
things to do to amuse themselves, and they first thought they'd have
some more stories, like Mr. Rabbit's.
But Mr. Rabbit, who is quite literary, and a good poet, said it would be
better to make it a kind of a club, and each have a poem, or a story, or
a song; or if anybody couldn't do any of those he must dance a jig.
Then they all remembered a poetry club that Mr. Rabbit had got up once
and how nice it was, and they all said that was just the thing, and they
got around the table and began to work away at whatever they were going
to do for the "Snowed-In" Literary Club.
[Illustration: GOT AROUND THE TABLE AND BEGAN TO WORK]
Mr. Rabbit wasn't very long at his piece, and pretty soon he jumped up
and said he was through, and Mr. 'Possum said that if that was so, he
might go down and bring up some wood and warm up the brains of the rest
of them. So Mr. Rabbit stirred up the fire, and sat down and looked
into it, and read over his poem to himself and changed a word here and
there, and thought how nice it was; and by-and-by Mr. Dog said he was
through, and Mr. Robin said he was through, too.
Then Mr. Rabbit said he thought that would be more than enough for one
evening anyway, and that the others might finish their pieces to-morrow
and have them ready for the next evening.
So then they all gathered around the fire again, and everybody said that
as Mr. Rabbit had thought of the club first, he must be the first to
read his piece.
Mr. Rabbit said he was sure it would be more modest for some one else to
read first, but that he was willing to start things going if they wanted
him to. Then he stood up, and turned a little to the light, and took a
nice position, and read his poem, which was called