A VISIT WITH THE HERDER FAMILY
John followed through the crooked street, so narrow now with banks of tumbled snow piled high above his head that he could not walk at his father’s side, but had to trot on behind. His father went so fast that he had no time to look at the gay paper toys pinned up in some of; the windows, although he knew the children who had put them there. And the broad window sills—how well I they were filled with green moss and bright berries — though none were prettier than their own at home. Still, he would have liked to stop and look at them and at the bright flowers growing in pots in the window where Dono and Peter lived.