Wood drove him, both sliders and skaters made way.
And even on the pond there were no more real battles that winter. Only
now and then some mischievous urchin tripped up our brand-new skates,
and begged our pardon as he left us on our backs. And more than once,
when "the island" in the middle of the pond was a very fairyland of
hoar-frosted twigs and snow-plumed larches, I have seen its white
loveliness rudely shaken, and skating round to discover the cause, have
beheld Jem, with cheeks redder than his scarlet comforter, return an
"accidental" shove with interest; or posed like a ruffled robin
redbreast, to defend a newly-made slide against intruders.
CHAPTER VIII.
"He it was who sent the snowflakes
Sifting, hissing through the forest;
Froze the ponds, the lakes, the rivers,
* * * * *
Shinbegis, the diver, feared not."
_The Song of Hiawatha_.
The first day of February was mild, and foggy, and cloudy, and in the
night I woke feeling very hot, and threw off my quilt, and heard the
dripping of soft rain in the dark outside, and thought, "There goes our
skating.
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