"Anything inside?"
Polly showed him how to open it. He sat a moment or more looking
at the graven gold.
"Strange!" said he, presently, surveying the wrought cases,
Mrs. Vaughn was now at his elbow.
"Strange?" she inquired.
"Well, long ago," said he, "I heard of one like it. Some time it
may solve the mystery of your Santa Claus."
An ear of the teacher had begun to swell and redden.
"Should have pulled my cap down," said he, as the widow spoke of
it. "Frost-bitten years ago, and if I'm out long in the cold, I
begin to feel it."
"Must be very painful," said Polly, as indeed it was.
"No," said he, with a little squint as he touched the aching
member. "It's good--I rather like it. I wouldn't take anything
for that ear. It--it--" He hesitated, as if trying to recall the
advantages of a chilled ear. "Well, I shouldn't know I had any
ears if it weren't for that one. Come, Paul, put on your cap an'
mittens. We'll take a sack and get some green boughs for your
mother."
He put on snow-shoes, wrapped the boy snugly in a shawl, and,
seating him on a snowboat, made off, hauling it with a rope over
white banks and hollows toward the big timber. The dog, Bony, came
along with them, wallowing to his ears and barking merrily.
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