Every one sniffed derisively.
“Well,” said Trevor, “if it must be something wintry, what’s the matter with The Ulster or The Cough Drop?”
“Or The Chilblain?” laughed Dick.
“I think a good name would be The Sleet,” Stewart struck in. “That’s wintry enough.”
A vote was taken, and The Sleet carried.
“We can have a sail next Saturday,” suggested Carl.
“So soon?” groaned Dick. “Carl, we’re so young to die!”
“That’s all right, my funny friend, but just you wait until I get to sailing that thing; you’ll see!”
And Carl’s prediction, though vague, proved in a measure correct.