“Unwind before you try to talk,” Kit exclaimed, taking one end of the long knit muffler. “How on earth did you get through?”
“It isn’t so bad,” Sally replied in her matter-of-fact way, warming her hands over the kitchen fire. “And our hill is fine for coasting. The boys have been using it. Father’s going to break the road through for the mail cart, and on his way back we can all get on and ride back. You don’t need any sleds. We’ve got a big bob.”
Jean and Helen hesitated. Winter at the Cove had never meant this, but Doris pleaded for them all to go, and Kit was frankly rebellious against this spirit in the family.
“Jean Robbins,” she said, “do you really think it is beneath your dignity to slide down hill on a bobsled? You won’t meet one of Bab Crane’s crowd. Come along.”
“It’s so cold,” Helen demurred, from her seat by the sitting-room fire with a book to read as usual.
“Cold? You’re a couple of cats, curled up by the fire. Bundle up and let’s have some fun.”
“Do you all a pile of good,” Mrs. Gorham said placidly. “You just sit around and toast yourselves ’stid of getting used to the cold. Get out and stir around. Look at Sally’s red cheeks.”
So laughing together, they all wrapped up warmly and went out to get on the wood sled when it came back. The hill over by the sawmill was not so steep, but it swept in long, undulating sections, as it were, clear from the top of Woodchuck Hill down to the bridge at Little River. The Peckham boys had been sliding for a couple of days, and had worn a fair sized track over the snow and ice.
“There’ll be fine skating when the snow clears off a bit,” Billy called out. “We’ve got a skating club, and you’ll have to join. Piney’s the best girl skater. Jiminy, you ought to see her spin ahead. We skate on the river when it’s like this and you can keep on going for miles.”
“Do you know, girls,” Jean said on the way back, “I think we stay in the house too much and coddle ourselves just as Mrs. Gorham says. I feel simply dandy now. Who’s for the skating club?”