“Ah, Jessie, is that you?” said Guy, as he came round the winding path, plunging through the soft snow with his thick boots, and dragging his sled after him.
“Yes, I’m here,” replied Jessie. “But where have you been with your sled before breakfast?”
“Been coasting, to be sure. There’s a capital place in the lane that runs past Carrie Sherwood’s cottage. We couldn’t do much this morning but tread down the snow; but after breakfast, it will be fine. Will you go with me then, Jessie?”
“I should like to, ever so much, but—”
“But what?”
“Well, I must work all the morning. That’s my rule, you know. I’ll go with you in the afternoon, Guy.”
“I don’t want to tempt you to neglect a duty,” replied Guy, knocking the snow off his boots against the step of the piazza, as he spoke, “but really, I’m afraid the coasting won’t be worth the heel of an old shoe, by the afternoon. You see, the sun is very bright, and the snow isn’t apt to stay long, so early in the season.”
“I’m sorry,” said Jessie, looking very downcast, “but I must give it up, I guess. You see, I’ve finished uncle’s slippers, and have almost done his watch-pocket. I want to finish it ever so much before Thanksgiving, which is to-morrow, you know.”
“That’s right, stick to it, Sister Jessie! I won’t train in the little wizard’s company, so I advise you to lose this coasting treat, if the snow does go, and thereby gain a victory for which Corporal Try would promote you if he knew it.”
With these words, Guy kissed his sister, placed his sled in the back-hall, and went to the breakfast-room, to which he was shortly followed by Jessie.