WINTER SPORTS.
It was now mid-winter, and a few inches of snow lay upon the frozen
ground, sufficient to make pretty fair sleighing for a few days, and to
afford good coasting for the boys on the hill-sides. The favorite
place for this amusement, among the boys in Oscar's neighborhood, was
the Common. Here they always found good, long, smooth coasting-places,
when there was any snow on the ground; and there was no danger of
tripping up foot passengers, or getting under the heels of the horses,
or being tapped on the shoulder by a policeman, which often happened to
boys who coasted down the steep streets of the city,--a practice, by
the way, prohibited by a city law.
Oscar had a handsome new sled, which was a new year's present from his
father. It was long and narrow, the two steel-shod runners projecting
forward far beyond the top or seat, and ending in sharp points. It was
painted light blue, and varnished. Upon the sides, in gilt letters,
was its name--CLIPPER; and upon its top it bore the initial of Oscar's
name, with an ornamental device. It had what a sailor would call a
decidedly rakish look, and was really a fast as well as a stylish
"team," to use the term by which Oscar usually spoke of it. It even
eclipsed George's small but elegant sled, which, the winter previous,
had been regarded as the _ne plus ultra_ of sled architecture.
Ralph's sled, by the side of these, presented a very cheap and
antiquated appearance, and it was seldom that he took it with him to
the Common. He often borrowed Oscar's, however, when it was not in use
for his elder brother, with all his faults, was not selfish boy, but
was willing to lend his property to others, when he was not using it
himself. One pleasant Wednesday afternoon, a portion of the week
always devoted to recreation by the Boston school children, Ralph
obtained leave to take the "Clipper" with him to the Common. George
also went with him with his sled. The coasting is very good, and some
hundreds of boys are enjoying it. Long lines of sleds, freighted with
from one to three or four juveniles, are dashing down in various
directions from the Beacon Street mall; and an odd collection of
juveniles and sleds it is, too. There comes a chubby, red-faced lad,
with his exact counterpart, on a smaller scale, clinging on behind him
with one hand, and swinging his cap with the other. Their sled is
called the "Post-Boy," and it seems to "carry the males" very
expeditiously. Close at their heels is a pale, poetic youth, lightly
skimming over the inclined plane upon a delicate craft that looks like
himself, and which he calls the "Mystery." Here comes a rude,
unpainted sled, with two rough but merry youngsters lying prone upon
it, one over the other, and their heels working up and down in the air
in a most lively manner. Anon goes by an aristocratic-looking craft,
bearing upon it a sleek and well-dressed boy, whose appearance speaks
of wealth, indulgence, and ease. His sled is appropriately named the
"Pet;" but in gliding down the icy track it strikes a tree, and its
pampered owner is sent sprawling upon his back, in a very undignified
way, while his "Pet" gives him the slip and soon finds the bottom of
the hill. Poor fellow! we wonder if this is an omen of what is to
befall him in sliding down the hill of life. And here comes the
"Clipper" itself, with our Ralph seated proudly upon it, and apparently
enjoying the fleet and beautiful sled as much as though it were really
his own. And there, too, comes George, with his pretty "Snow Flake;"
and close behind him are the "Tempest," and the "Yankee Doodle," and
the "Screamer," and the "Snow ball," and the "Nelly," and the "Racer,"
and a host of other craft, of every imaginable appearance, and strided
by all sorts of boys.
Ralph and George spent an hour or two upon the Common. Nothing
occurred to mar their pleasure till just before they started for home,
when Ralph met with an adventure that sadly ruffled his temper. He was
descending the hill upon his sled, when another craft, having two boys
upon it larger than himself, managed to run into him. The "Clipper"
being lightly loaded, the other sled descended with greater impetus;
and the force of the collision, together with a vigorous kick from the
stout boots of one of the boys, overturned Ralph upon the steepest part
of the hill. He quickly picked himself up, and, forgetful of self, his
first care was to see whether Oscar's sled had sustained any damage.
When he beheld the marks of the rough encounter, in the form of sundry
ugly scratches upon the polished sides of the "Clipper," the tears came
in his eyes; and it was some time before he noticed that he himself
bore upon his hands and knees several unmistakable tokens of the
collision.
Ralph knew very well that the collision was not accidental. The kick
of the boy who guided the sled, and the hearty laugh of both its
occupants, when Ralph was overturned, satisfied him that he had been
run down purposely. He did not know the names of the boys, having only
met them occasionally on the Common. They soon came along again, on
their way up the hill, and Ralph asked the owner of the sled why he run
him down.
"Because you got in our way," replied the boy.
"No, I did n't," said Ralph; "there was room enough for you to go by,
but you steered out of your course, and gave my sled a kick, too."
"Don't you tell me I lie, you little snipper-snapper," answered the boy
"or I 'll put you in my pocket, and carry you off."
"See what you did," continued Ralph, pointing to the scratches on the
"Clipper;" "I should n't care anything about it, but the sled is n't
mine. I borrowed it of my brother, and it had n't a scratch on it when
I took it."
"Pooh," said the other boy, "that does n't hurt it any. I 'll be bound
it will be scratched worse than that, before the winter 's over. If
you get in my way with it again, I shall serve it worse than I did this
time."
The boys passed on their way, and Ralph and George, whose "fun" had
been thus suddenly and unjustly spoiled by their insolent and
domineering companions, concluded to return home. Poor Ralph dreaded
to meet Oscar; but yet he hunted him up, as soon as he got home, and
told him what had befallen the beautiful sled. Oscar was very angry
when he heard the story, but he generously acquitted his brother of all
blame in the matter, and declared that he would pay back the boy who
had thus taken advantage of his weakness. He knew the offender, from
Ralph's description, and from the name of his sled, which was the
"Corsair." He even proposed to go directly to the Common, and settle
the account at once; but Ralph, in whose heart revenge held a very
small place, persuaded him out of the notion.
But Oscar, unlike Ralph, was not the boy to forget or forgive an
injury. A day or two after the occurrence just related, while coasting
on the Common, he fell in with the boy who run into his brother.
Keeping his eye upon him until he could catch him a little aside from
the other boys, when the favorable moment came, he suddenly dealt him a
severe blow, which nearly knocked him over, accompanying it with the
remark:
"There, take that for running down my little brother, when he was
coasting with my sled, the other day."
The other boy, without saying a word, sprang at Oscar, and, for a
moment or two, blows and kicks were freely exchanged. But though they
were about of a size, it was evident that Oscar was the stronger or
most resolute of the two, and his antagonist soon gave up the contest,
but not until he had been pretty roughly handled. Other boys soon came
flocking around, to whom Oscar explained the cause of the assault; but
his antagonist denied all knowledge of the affair for which Oscar had
attacked him. An angry war of words ensued, but the excitement finally
subsided without any further resort to blows, and Oscar returned home,
well pleased with his adventure.
One of Oscar's favorite winter amusements was skating. Early in
winter, as soon as the little pond on the Common was frozen over, he
might be seen gliding over the smooth ice; but later in the season,
when there was good skating on "Back Bay," he preferred that locality,
because of its greater extent. Tiger usually accompanied him in his
skating excursions, and seemed to enjoy the sport as much as his master
did. It was amusing to see him try to make a short turn, in running
upon the ice. He would slide some distance before he could change his
course. Oscar would often plague him, when he was in full chase after
his master, by suddenly turning upon his skates, and taking a contrary
direction, leaving Tiger to get back as he could.
But an event happened, one day, that almost wholly cured Tiger of his
fondness for this kind of sport. He was gaily tripping over the ice,
by the side of his young master, when the latter suddenly turned about,
and Tiger, in his haste to follow him, slid directly into an air-hole.
This was probably the first time he had enjoyed so extensive a cold
bath; and as he was not a water-dog, it is not surprising that he was
terribly frightened. His piteous cries brought Oscar to his relief,
who could not help laughing at the sorry plight in which he found his
half-drowned canine friend. He was floundering and paddling about in
the water, now lifting himself almost out, upon the edge of the ice,
and now slipping off again, and plumping over-head in the uncomfortable
element; his intelligent countenance, in the meantime, wearing the
impress of despair. But Oscar soon helped him from his disagreeable
position. Finding himself on his legs again, he did not resume his
sport; but, shivering with cold, and dripping with water, almost at the
freezing point, and with his head hanging downward, and his tail
drooping between his legs, he started towards home--a wiser and a
sadder dog.
When Oscar got home, he found the family some what alarmed for his own
safety. Tiger had arrived some time before, and as it was evident that
he had been overboard, and as he was known to have gone off with his
master, Mrs. Preston felt some anxiety, not knowing but that both Oscar
and the dog had broken through the ice. But his arrival dispelled all
fears, and his account of Tiger's misfortune served to amuse the
children for the rest of the day. As for Tiger himself, he seemed
heartily ashamed of the part he had played, and could hardly be
persuaded to leave the chimney-corner for a moment, or even to look up,
when the children inquired for his health.
"I don't see what good air-holes do. I wonder if anybody knows what
they are for," exclaimed Ralph, as the children and their mother were
seated around the sitting-room table in the evening.
"They are traps set to catch skaters, I suppose," said Oscar.
"And dogs," added Ella.
"But don't you know what they are for, Alice?" continued Ralph.
"Yes," replied Alice, who had studied natural philosophy at school,
"they are the breathing holes of the fishes. Fishes can't live without
air, any better than we can; and a pond or river frozen over solid,
without any air-holes, would be as bad for them as a room from which
all fresh air was shut out would be to us. You can sometimes catch
fish very easily by cutting a hole in the ice, for if they feel the
need of air, they will rush right up to the opening."
"But how are the air-holes made?" inquired Ralph.
"I believe," replied Alice, "that they are generally made by springs
that bubble up from the bottom. These springs come from the earth, and
the water is so warm that it gradually thaws the ice over them. The
fish often finish the process by jumping up through the ice before it
has entirely melted. When the cold is very intense, and these springs
have frozen up, some of the water is absorbed by the earth, which
leaves a vacuum or empty space between the ice and the water; and then
the ice gives way under the weight of the atmosphere, and air is
admitted into the water beneath."
"Well, I 'm glad air-holes are good for something," said Oscar; "they
're troublesome enough to skaters. Jim Anderson skated right into one
the other day, and came pretty near getting drowned. But I always keep
my eyes open for them. I never got into one yet."
"You cannot be too careful when you are on the ice," remarked Mrs.
Preston. "I felt so uneasy, that I was just going to send Ralph in
search of you, when you got home."
After that day it required considerable coaxing to induce Tiger to go
upon the boys' skating-ground. He manifested a decided preference to
remain upon the shore, and look on; and when he did venture to
accompany his master, he kept close by his side, and travelled over the
treacherous ice with a degree of circumspection, which said very
plainly, "You won't catch me in that scrape again, master Oscar!"
But there was nothing that the boys enjoyed more at this season of the
year, than a real good snowstorm. Such a storm they were favored with
during this month. It came on in the evening, and the next morning,
when they arose, their basement windows were more than half buried up
in snow, and the drifts, in some places, were higher than Oscar's head.
The streets were deserted and almost impassable. Thick crusts of snow
hung over the roofs of the long blocks of houses; while the blinds,
windows, doors and balustrades were heavily trimmed with the same
delicate material. The huge banks which stretched themselves along the
street and sidewalk, were as yet undisturbed; for the few passers-by
had been glad to pick their way through the valleys. The wind roared
and piped among the chimneys and house-tops, and whisked through narrow
passage-ways, and whistled through the smallest cracks and crevices, in
its merriest and busiest mood. Now it would scoop up a cloud of snow
from the street, and bear it up far above the house-tops, and then it
would repay the debt by gathering a fleecy wreath from some neighboring
roof, and sweeping it into the street beneath. The storm still
continued with unabated severity, and the air was so full of snow, that
one could hardly see the length of the street.
After a hasty breakfast, the boys tucked the bottoms of their trowsers
into their boots, and sallied forth, to explore the half-buried
streets. And now the light snow-balls began to fly thick and fast, and
every few moments, one and another would measure his full length in
some deep drift, which for a moment almost buried him from sight.
Tiger, who accompanied them, entered fully into the sport, and very
good-naturedly received his share of the snowballs and snow-baths. But
their exercise was too violent to be continued a great while. They
soon returned home, coated with snow from head to heel, and the cheeks
of the boys glowing with health and enjoyment.
"After you get rested, Oscar," said Mr. Preston, who was just leaving
for the store, "I want you to shovel a path in front of the house."
"What is the use?" inquired Oscar. "The storm is n't over yet, and if
I make a path, it will fill right up again."
"No it won't," replied his father. "I don't think it will storm much
longer; and the snow is so light, now, that you can shovel it easily,
but if you leave it till noon, it maybe trodden down hard. You need
not clean off the whole side-walk now; only make a comfortable
passage-way, and perhaps I will help you finish the job at night."
Oscar still thought it would be a waste of labor to shovel a path then,
and he did not evince any haste in obeying his father's order. After
loitering about the house a long time, he took the shovel, and worked
lazily at the path for awhile. Although he only undertook to cut a
narrow passage-way through the drift in front of the house, he worked
with so little spirit, that when the time came for him to get ready for
school, he had not half completed the task. He asked permission to
stay at home and finish his path, but his mother did not think this
necessary, and refused her consent. So he went to school, and in the
meantime the storm died away, and the clouds dispersed.
Towards noon the door-bell rang, and on Bridget going to answer it, a
little printed paper was handed to her, directing the occupant of the
house to have the snow removed from his sidewalk within a given number
of hours. After school, Oscar thought no more of his path, but went
off with Alfred Walton, and did not go home until dinner-time. He had
but little time now to shovel snow; but his father told him to be sure
and come home directly from school, in the afternoon, and not to play
or do anything else until the sidewalk was cleared off.
Oscar accordingly went home after school, and resumed his work. He
found that the snow was trodden into such a solid icy mass, that an axe
was necessary to cut it up in some places. He was not the boy to hurt
himself with hard labor, and although he kept his shovel at work in a
leisurely way, he did not accomplish much, except the removal of a
little snow that had not got trodden down. Wearied at length with his
feeble and fruitless efforts, he returned into the house, saying to his
mother:
"There, I can't get the snow off the sidewalk, and it's of no use to
try. It's trodden down just as hard as ice. Besides, if I should
shovel it all off, there will be an avalanche from the top of the house
to-night, that will bury the sidewalk all up again. The snow is
sliding off the roofs, all around here;--have n't you heard it, mother?"
"Yes, I thought I heard it," replied Mrs. Preston; "but if you can't
get the snow off the sidewalk, you had better speak to your father
about it, when he comes home, and perhaps he will help you, or hire
somebody to do it for you. It must be got off as soon as possible, for
the police have notified us to attend to it."
In spite of this advice, Oscar neglected to speak to his father in
regard to the matter, and no one else happening to think of it, nothing
was said about it. The next morning, he chopped away upon the ice a
little while, but getting tired of it, he soon abandoned the job, and
went to play. When Mr. Preston came home to dinner, an unusual cloud
was on his brow; and as soon as Oscar came in, the cause was explained.
"Oscar," he said, "why did you not shovel the snow from the sidewalk,
as I told you to, yesterday morning?"
"I tried to," replied Oscar; "but it was trodden down so hard, I could
n't get it off."
"But you should have done it before it got hardened. I told you to
clear a passage-way, yesterday morning. That would have saved the rest
from getting trod down, and at noon you could have finished the job.
Why did you not do as I told you to?"
"I did begin to make a path," replied Oscar; "but I did n't have time
to finish it, and when I got home from school, the snow was all trodden
down hard."
"Did n't have time?" said his father; "what do you tell me such a story
as that for? You could have made all the path that was necessary in
fifteen or twenty minutes, if you had been disposed to do it. By
neglecting to obey me, you have got me into a pretty scrape. I have
had to go before the Police Court, this forenoon, and pay a fine and
costs, amounting to over five dollars, for your negligence and
disobedience. And now," he added, "you may try once more, and see if
you can do as I tell you to. As soon at you have done dinner, take the
hatchet and shovel, and go to work upon the sidewalk; and don't you
leave it until the ice is all cleared off. As sure as you do, I will
dust your jacket for you when I come home to-night, so that you will
not forget it for one while."
Oscar thought it best to obey his father this time. It being Saturday,
school did not keep, in the afternoon, and he had ample time to
complete the task, although it was time which he intended to spend in a
different way. Ralph, however, volunteered his assistance, and before
the middle of the afternoon, the task was finished.