"Can't we thank him big, somehow?"
"Enough for two pair of skates?"
"That's so. We can't do it."
They had to give it up; but they did their best, and Uncle Josh cut them short in the middle of it.
"Come, come, boys, we can't stay here all day. There won't be another Saturday again for a week, and then it may rain. Don't put your skates on. Wait till we get to the pond. Bring along the big ones. They'll do for me."
"Why, are you going, Uncle Josh?"
"Of course I am. If the ice is twenty feet thick, I want to skate on it. That kind of ice'll bear anybody."
And so the boys tied the big skates upon the sled, and were starting off, when Uncle Josh exclaimed:
"No, boys, give 'em to me. I haven't had a pair of skates in my hand for twenty years. I want to see how it would seem to carry them."
There were not a great many people to be met in a small village like that, but every one they did meet had a smile for Uncle Josh and his skates, till they reached the miller's house, just this side of the pond. And there was Mrs. Sanders, the miller's wife, sweeping the least bit of snow from her front stoop.