"Ready for me! What can you mean? I'm just amazed and upset, Deacon Parmenter. A man like you, to be cutting up in such a way as this!"
"There they are, Sister Sanders. You can put 'em right on. Come and sit down on the sled. They're a little large for me, but they'll just fit you; I know they will."
Uncle Josh had very carefully risen to his feet, and was holding out to her Brother Bob's big skates, straps and all. Her face grew very rosy indeed as she looked at them.
"Fit me!" she exclaimed—"those things fit me! Why, Deacon Parmenter, what can you mean?"
"Too small, eh? Well, now, I'd ha' thought—"
But Mrs. Sanders turned right around and marched away toward her own house without saying another word.
"Boys," said Uncle Josh, "the skating is fine, but there isn't any more of it than you'll want. Billy, take care of Brother Bob's skates for him. I hope you'll all have a good time."
He was edging and sliding along toward the shore while he was talking, and the last they heard him say was,
"I can skate well enough, but I'm afraid somebody else'll have to do my walking for me for a week or two."
"He's just the best man in the village," said Joe Pearce.