I woke once or twice in the night and saw him putting wood on the fire.

He had put out the light.

The gleam of the fire shone on his face when he opened the stove door.
'Gittin' a leetle cool here, Uncle Eb,' he was saying to himself.
We were up at daylight, and even then it was snowing and blowing fiercely.

There were two feet of snow on the sledgehouse roof, and we were nearly buried in the bank.

Uncle Eb had to do a lot of shoveling to get out of doors and into the stable.