But in two weeks, during which time the skating remained good, Rob’s pupils ventured fearlessly all about the pond, without a helping hand, and had even begun to try to cut letters and figures—though not, it must be admitted, with any great amount of success. Mrs. Leslie declared that she must see some of the wonderful performances of which she heard so much, so one bright afternoon, when the mildness of the air threatened to spoil their fun before long, she wrapped Tiny and Polly warmly up, hired Mr. Chipman’s safest horse and best wagon, and drove in state to the pond.
The boys were delighted, and did their best, but of course, in his eagerness to excel himself, Johnny managed to fall once or twice, and Rob was obliged to testify that this was now quite unusual.
Then they begged for Polly—Tiny had been allowed to leave the wagon when it first arrived, and was successfully and joyfully sliding.
“Oh, do let us have Polly, if it’s just for five minutes, mamma!” said Johnny, eagerly. “We’ll take off our skates and give her a slide. It’s first-rate sliding, here by the bank, and it’s quite safe.”
So Miss Polly, chuckling with delight, was lifted from the wagon, while Johnny and Pep pulled off their skates, but she was a little frightened when she felt the slippery ice under her feet, and “hung down like a rag doll,” as Johnny said, instead of putting herself in sliding position.
THE SKATING LESSON.
“Stand up straight, Polly, and put your feet down flat, so,” said Johnny, as Polly slid helplessly along on the backs of her heels, resting all her little weight confidingly upon the boys. And, after two or three earnest explanations from Johnny and Pep, she suddenly seemed to understand; she stiffened up, grasped a hand on each side, and went off in such style that the boys had almost to run to keep up with her, and she obeyed her mother’s call very unwillingly.