I happened to find the open bung-hole near my eye, and peeped out.

The knocking continued.
"Wait a bit, Mrs.Mitchell," screamed Kirsty; "wait till I get my potatoes off the fire." As she spoke, she took the great bow-pot in one hand and carried it to the door, to pour away the water.

When she unlocked and opened the door, I saw through the bung-hole a lovely sight; for the moon was shining, and the snow was falling thick.

In the midst of it stood Mrs.Mitchell, one mass of whiteness.

She would have rushed in, but Kirsty's advance with the pot made her give way, and from behind Kirsty Turkey slipped out and round the corner without being seen.
There he stood watching, but busy at the same time kneading snowballs.
"And what may you please to want to-night, Mrs.Mitchell ?" said Kirsty, with great civility.
"What should I want but my poor children?
They ought to have been in bed an hour ago.