That very afternoon Pomp had come over to play with Sam Thompson, and the two, after devising various projects of amusement, had determined to make a cave in the snow.  They selected a part of the field where it had drifted to the depth of some four or five feet.  Beginning at a little distance, they burrowed their way into the heart of the snow, and excavated a place about four feet square by four deep, leaving the upper crust intact, of course, without its ordinary strength.

The two boys had completed their task, and were siting down in their subterranean abode, when the roof suddenly gave way, and a visitor entered in the most unceremonious manner.

The old lady had kept on her way unsuspiciously, using as a cane a faded blue umbrella, which she carried invariably, whatever the weather.

When Mrs. Payson felt herself sinking, she uttered a loud shriek and waved her arms aloft, brandishing her umbrella in a frantic way.  She was plunged up to her armpits in the snow, and was, of course, placed in a very unfavorable position for extricating herself.

The two boys were at first nearly smothered by the descent of snow, but when the first surprise was over they recognized their prisoner.  I am ashamed to say that their feeling was that of unbounded delight, and they burst into a roar of laughter.  The sound, indistinctly heard, terrified the old lady beyond measure, and she struggled frantically to escape, nearly poking out Pomp’s eye with the point of her umbrella. "

Pomp, always prompt to repel aggression, in return, pinched her foot.

“Massy sakes!  Where am I?” ejaculated the affrighted old lady.  “There’s some wild crittur down there.  Oh, Cynthy Ann, ef you could see your marm at this moment!”

She made another vigorous flounder, and managed to kick Sam in the face.  Partly as a measure of self-defense, he seized her ankle firmly.

“He’s got hold of me!” shrieked the old lady “Help! help!  I shall be murdered.”

Her struggles became so energetic that the boys soon found it expedient to evacuate the premises.  They crawled out by the passage they had made, and appeared on the surface of the snow.

The old lady presented a ludicrous appearance.  Her hood had slipped off, her spectacles were resting on the end of her nose, and she had lost her work-bag.  But she clung with the most desperate energy to the umbrella, on which apparently depended her sole hope of deliverance.

“Hi yah!” laughed Pomp, as he threw himself back on the snow and began to roll about in an ecstasy of delight.

Instantly Mrs. Payson’s apprehensions changed to furious anger.

“So it’s you, you little varmint, that’s done this.  Jest le’ me get out, and I’ll whip you so you can’t stan’.  See ef I don’t.”

“You can’t get out, missus; yah, yah!” laughed Pomp.  “You’s tied, you is, missus.”

“Come an’ help me out, this minute!” exclaimed the old lady, stamping her foot.