Thus, at the bottom was the layer of damp “packing” snow, and at the top was the colder, freezing layer. Conditions for coasting could not have been better had the Beaufort young people planned and carried out to suit themselves.
Moreover, to-day was Thursday. By Saturday Breede’s Hill would be in prime condition.
With the approach of night the downfall slackened. Through all the town sounded the scrape, scrape of the snow-shovel. Ned added his note to the harmony, for he had a front walk, and a walk around the house, and a path to the barn, and one to the wood-shed to clean, besides a few trimmings such as the horse-block, and the steps and porches.
Bob welcomed the snow with great zest. He frolicked and barked, and scooped up mouthfuls in defiance of the theory that eating snow gives one the sore throat. No doubt he barked so much that his throat did not have time to get sore.
Dogs have their own rules of hygiene, anyway.
Ned’s sled had been brought out from summer quarters in the attic, and had been waiting on the back porch for quite a month. Although, on account of his extra chores, he could not use it at once, during his labors between school and supper he could not resist giving it a moment of exercise—just to limber it up. It left a red trail of rust; but he knew that the rust would soon wear off.
This sled of Ned’s was a novelty, and the joy of his heart. It was of clipper pattern, but very low—not more than four inches from the ground. It had sharp points, longer than its body; when Ned flopped upon it the points stuck far out before, and his legs stuck far out behind. The runners were round steel, and well sprung. How that sled did go! It was no good for ruts, or for deep snow, but given a smooth track it could beat any sled in Beaufort. No matter how icy the hill, when other sleds had a tendency to veer and drift sideways this little sled darted straight as an arrow beyond the mark of all.
Sighing because now was night instead of morning Ned restored the sled, with a fond pat of promise, to its corner, and went in to supper, whither he had been drawn for some time by the delicious sizzling of fried mush.
Friday broke bright as a new dollar, with sunshine that proved just warm enough to soften the snow and settle it. Around school passed the word among Ned and Hal and Tom and kindred spirits to “come to Breede’s Hill and help break it.”
Breede’s Hill—ah, but that was a hill for you! Two blocks of slope and two blocks more of slide, and all, in the height of the season, as smooth as oil! Here were four blocks of street practically given over to the coasters. For a driver to try the slippery incline, either on wheels or on runners, was foolhardy; while to cross at the base was to invite a sudden attack from catapult bob or sled.