"He'd have to look out for that, and he'd have to jump pretty lively; but he could do it."
The excitement over Put Giddings and his iceberg had left that lot of lake-shore boys in a bad state of mind, and they were drifting toward the cove all the while they were talking. The ice there was indeed packed pretty well. Not as closely as in an ice-house, perhaps, but still it had a very substantial appearance, considering what it really was. It seemed a great pity, too, not to get a little more fun out of what had been the best skating ground on all that end of the lake. Still, the remaining mischief was really done by Pat Farrel, small as he was, for he broke in on the talk of the larger boys with:
"Crass that ice, is it? I kud do it in a minute if me fut was well. Yer afraid to thry it. That's all."
There was always some place or other lame or bruised about Pat Farrel, for the good reason that he could not see or think of any rash undertaking he was not at once ready to try.
Pat kept on talking, and the more he said about it, the more the taller boys began to feel that it was their duty to try it.
Mum Robbins was a little the best runner, but it was well known that Bill Thatcher could outjump him, and the other boys were quite contented to let those two make the experiment.
They went back three or four rods from the edge of the "pack" to get a good start, and then Pat Farrel shouted, "Now, b'ys, jump!"
"EVERY CAKE THEY TROD UPON DANCED AND WOBBLED."
They started, and they were almost surprised, as were all the lookers-on, to find how easy a piece of work it was at first. Their footfalls hardly stirred the cakes of ice from their places, and the small boys began to hurrah. All that, however, was near shore, where the cakes were wedged and jammed together in a sort of close raft that helped support itself, but there was something not quite so nice a little further out toward the middle of the cove. Everything grew looser and looser the further the two young adventurers went, and in a few seconds more they were actually forced to jump a wide crack. Then all the "race track" under them became full of cracks, and every cake they trod upon danced and wobbled, and they were not half so sure of their footing.