It was so beautiful that I waked Addison to see it.
By morning winter weather had come again; the snow slush was frozen.

The stream, however, was still too high to be crossed, and the swamps and meadows were also impassable.

We now bethought ourselves of another route home, by way of a lumber trail that led southward to Lurvey's Mills, where there was a bridge over the stream.
"It is five miles farther, but it is our only chance of getting home this week," Addison said.
We were busy bundling Halstead up for the sled trip when the door opened and in stepped Asa Doane, one of our hired men at the farm, and a neighbor named Davis.
"Well, well, here you are, then!" Asa exclaimed in a tone of great relief.

"Do you know that the old Squire's got ten men out searching the woods for you?
Why, the folks at home are scared half to death!" We were not sorry to see Asa and Davis, and to have help for the long pull homeward.

We made a start, and after a very hard tramp we finally reached the old farm, thoroughly tired out, at eight o'clock that evening.
Theodora and grandmother were so affected at seeing us back that they actually shed tears.