narrow stairs and went out into the darkness of the morning.
Snow had fallen deeply. The city street looked as pure as a street in heaven. Marble whiteness everywhere, arched by a dark blue sky out of which hung a great golden moon.
The sweet coldness of the still air was like a joyful caress. They lifted their faces to it, opened their mouths and drank it in. They sought to absorb it into every region of their beings. The soft pure snow beneath their feet was beautiful. They ran in it, ruffling it up. Lilly took off his hat that his head might cool, but Burns snatched it and jammed it on his head again. "No, no, you'll take cold, my little Lilly. My pretty little Lilly," he admonished, rather thickly.
Lilly, his hat over his eyes, trudged along silently, much annoyed.
"I know," went on Burns, "of a place where we could get a good hot supper. I'm starving."
"So am I!" cried George. "Head on, O Burns! You of the significant name! Let's make a night of it."
"I ought to get home," objected Meech, "to my wife and little one."
Burns exclaimed: "Wife and little one be"
"Look out what you say!" interrupted the flautist, standing up to him.
"Keep your shirt on," retorted Burns. "I didn't mean no harm. I only meant I know a place where we can get a good hot supper, and seeing as how we got extra pay to-night I'm willing to stand treat for the crowd. How about it now, eh?"
There was almost instant agreement, and as they tramped along Burns remarked: "My stomach begins to think my throat is cut."
His companions grunted. They thought it was far from taste in him, a butcher, to talk of cut throats.
It was a little ill-lighted dingy restaurant to which Burns led them, but the bacon and eggs were good, and after a whispered consultation the waiter brought them a jug of beer. The five were ravenous. They scarcely
