Summary

Mary E. Wilkins A New England Nun and Other Stories… (1920)

The snow was drifted into long waves, and looked like a frozen sea. A flock of sparrows had collected before Nicholas Gunn's door, and he stood watching them. They were searching for crumbs; this deep snow had shortened their resources wofully; all their larders were buried. There were no crumbs before this door; but they searched assiduously, with their feathers ruffled in the wind. Stephen Forster came up the road with his market-basket; it was all he could do to face the wind.
Source: Wikisource

Mary E. Wilkins A New England Nun and Other Stories… (1920)

The store-keeper thrust a small sharp face over the counter.
"If a man is such a darned fool as to live on meal and matches, I ain't got nothin' to say, so long as he pays me the money down," said he. He had a hoarse cold, and his voice was a facetious whisper.
There was another shout of laughter; Nicholas could hear it as he went down the street. The stranger who had driven the wood-sled past Nicholas's house was among the men. He was snow-bound overnight in the village. He was a young fellow, with innocent eyes and a hanging jaw. He nudged the man next him.
Source: Wikisource

Mary E. Wilkins A New England Nun and Other Stories… (1920)

Finally Nicholas turned about, and went back until he reached the village store. Its windows and glass door were full of yellow light, in which one could see many heads moving. When Nicholas opened the clanging door and went in, all the heads turned towards him. There was hardly a man there as tall as he. He went across the store with a kind of muscular shamble; his head, with its wild light beard, had a lofty lift to it. The lounging men watched him furtively as he bought some Indian meal and matches at the counter.
Source: Wikisource

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