A pair of shiny steel skates had been among Johnny’s Christmas presents, and had very nearly eclipsed all the rest, although he had many pretty and useful things beside.
He had never yet learned to skate, for the only good skating-pond was at some little distance from his home, and he had no big brother to take him in hand, and see that he had only the number of falls which must be accepted by nearly every one who ventures on skates for the first time.
But the winter following the famous picnic of which I have just told you, Pep Warren’s almost grown-up brother Robert was at home, because he had strained his eyes, and been forbidden to study for a month or two; but, as he sensibly observed, he didn’t skate on his eyes, and, being a big, jolly, good-natured fellow, he gave Pep a pair of skates exactly like Johnny’s, and offered to teach both the little boys to skate.
He had made this offer privately to Johnny’s mother and father before Christmas, for he had heard Johnny bewailing himself, and saying he didn’t believe he ever should learn to skate till he was as old as papa, and then he wouldn’t wish to!
Robert said nothing at the time, but made his kind offer in season for Kriss Kringle to learn that nothing he could bring Johnny Leslie would so delight his heart as a pair of steel skates would.
Johnny came home from his trial trip on the new skates with his transports a little moderated. He was “not conquered, but exhausted with conquering,” and quite ready to go to bed early that night, and to submit to a thorough rubbing with arnica first. His head ached a little. Some of the numerous and hitherto unknown stars which he had seen still danced before his eyes, and he felt as if he had at least half-a-dozen each of elbows and knees.
“You see, mamma,” he said, confidentially, as his mother’s soft, warm hand, wet with comforting arnica, passed tenderly over the black and blue places, “I looked at the other fellows, and it seemed to me it was just as easy as rolling off a log. Rob was cutting his name and figures of eight and all sorts of things while Pep and I were putting on our skates, and I thought I had nothing to do but sail in—begin, I mean, and it would sort of come naturally, like walking!
“I think Pep must have been born sensible—he hardly ever wants to do foolish things, the way I do, and, when Rob held out his hand, Pep just took it, and went very slowly at first, exactly as Rob told him, and, if you’ll believe it, he could really stand alone, and even strike out a little, before we came home!