'You have before seen in what manner the ice-house is filled,' replied Mr. Mortimer; 'that the ice is all broken, almost pounded to pieces, and then stored below ground; and I have also told you that it is never eaten, and it signifies little whether it is entirely pure or not. The house will be rendered as cold by this ice, as by that from the park, and that is all which is necessary. And it would be a pity to spoil the appearance of the other, unless it were necessary; particularly as John and Frederick and myself hope to have same good slides upon it during the holidays.'
Having stopped to ask a few questions of the men employed in conveying the ice from the pond, Mr. Mortimer now proceeded with his children to a farm-house not very far distant, where they all met a very hearty welcome, and where the boys' attention was arrested by two little grey ponies, which were in the meadow adjoining the farm yard.
'Well—what do you think of them,' said Mr. Mortimer. They were pronounced beautiful by both the boys, and their father then told them they had been purchased for their use, and that of their sisters; but that they would not be fit to be ridden till the summer. He designed to have them properly broken in by the next holidays, and the boys were delighted with the prospect of riding them on their next return from school.
'If the young gentlemen would like a ride this Christmas, Sir,' said the kind farmer, 'my Thomas's poney is a nice quiet little fellow, and Tom would be proud to lend him.' John and Frederick looked at each other, and at their father, but at length John suggested, that as only one could ride at a time they had better put off their rides till the summer; and Harriet and Elizabeth were both pleased that such was the decision.
The next visit was to the parsonage, where many a round happy countenance greeted the return of the young Mortimers: and while Mr. Mortimer was engaged in conversation with the excellent pastor of the village, Mr. Wexford, the young people were introduced into the play-room of the little Wexfords. Mr. Wexford made a petition that the young people should spend the day together: but as it was the first of the Mortimers being at home, their father declined it for them, at the same time promising that they should have the indulgence in a short time: and also expressing a hope that the Wexfords would return the visit at Beech Grove.
At that time of the year there was little to be seen out of doors, but one curiosity the Wexfords described, to which they were very anxious to introduce their young friends: and this was a little group of robin red-breasts which had been hatched in their summer-house, and which now took shelter there every night, and were regularly fed by the family.
'The gardener says they do not do us much good,' said Maria Wexford, as they approached the summer house; 'but I do not like that they should be destroyed.'
'Oh no, I could not have them destroyed,' replied Harriet Mortimer, 'even if they spoiled my flowers, they are such pretty creatures. But where are John and Frederick?'
John and Frederick had scampered off with the young Wexfords, and presently returned with a pan of bread crumbs, which they had begged from the cook, and which they now hoped to see the red-breasts eat.
But the little creatures were alarmed at seeing so many visitors; or the sun enticed them to extend their flight beyond the green house; for on the entrance of the boys, they all took wing and flew away.