Round-faced Mr. Pippin sat reading his paper while smiley-faced Mrs. Pippin sat knitting some seeks. In almost-spring, giant snow flakes -- which constitute too many of the illustrations-- fill the sky. The Pippins begin shovelling their drive, and are buried up to their knees, their waists, their heads,--gone. Angry Mr. Sun melts the snow, and the good old Pippins come smilingly to life along with their barnyard menagerie. While the illustrations are skillfully designed, this slight, snow-bound book is not comparable to other works of this esteemed author-illustrator.