"Have no fear," said Pownal; "he is too completely master of the science to hurt himself."
"In Holland the ladies are said to skate as well as the gentlemen," said Bernard.
"That is a poor compliment, William," said Anne. "If I cannot skate better without practice, than half of this awkward squad, I will never bind skates on my feet a second time."
"I know of nothing you cannot do," said her brother.
"Come here, Andrew," cried Pownal, to a boy standing opposite in the circle, and holding a pair of skates in his hand. "Come here and lend me your skates. Here, Miss Bernard," said he, presenting them to her, "here is a fine pair. Allow me to buckle them on. And then like a winged Mercury to fly."
"Please to compare me to no heathen gods, Mr. Pownal, or you may make these old Puritans burn me for a witch. Let me see if they fit. No, they are too large, I could never do myself justice on them. Here, my little fellow is a ninepence for you; away with you."
The boy took the little piece of silver with a grin, tied the rejected skates upon his feet, and was soon lost among his companions.
"I say," said an urchin, who was looking on with admiring eyes, "I say, Bill, that beats all natur. Did you ever see such shindys?"
"They ain't so bad," returned Bill; "but I guess I can do some of 'em myself."
"Which ones?" inquired the other.