reeable
_chaussure_ ever invented. Chiropodists might shut shop, were mocassins
to supersede the ugly and ponderous European boot, in which your foot
lies as dead as if it had neither muscles nor joints. Try to cross a
swamp in boots, and see how they'll make holes and stick in them, and
only come up with a slush, leaving a pool behind; but mocassined feet
trip lightly over: the tanned deer-hide is elastic as a second skin, yet
thick enough to ward off a cut from thorns or pebbles, while giving free
play to all the muscles of the foot.'

'You haven't convinced me: it's but one remove from bare-footedness.
Like a good fellow, show me how I'm to manage these monstrous
snow-shoes: I feel as queer as in my first pair of skates.'

Mr. Holt did as required. But the best theoretical teaching about
anything cannot secure a beginner from failures, and Arthur was
presently brought up by several inches of snow gathered round the
edges of his boards, and adding no small weight.

'It _will_ work up on them,' said he (as, when a smaller boy, he had
been used to blame everything but himself), 'in spite of all I can do.'

'Practice makes perfect,' was Sam Holt's consolatory remark. 'Get the
axes, Robert, and we'll go chop a bit.'

'I'll stay awhile by the snow-shoes,' said Arthur.

The others walked away to the edge of the clearing, Mr. Holt having
first drawn on a pair of the despised European boots.

Never had Robert seen such transparent calm of heaven and earth as on
this glorious winter day. It was as if the common atmosphere had been
purified of all grosser particles--as if its component gases had been
mixed afresh, for Canadian use only. The cold was hardly felt, though
Mr. Holt was sure the thermometer must be close upon zero; but a bracing
exhilarating sensation strung every nerve with gladness and power.

'You'll soon comprehend how delightful our winter is,' said Sam Holt,
noticing his companion's gradually glowing face. 'It has phases of the
most bewitching beauty. Just look at this white spruce, at all times one
of our loveliest trees, with branches feathering down to the ground, and
every one of its innumerable sea-green leaves tipped with a spikelet
which might be a diamond!'

They did stand before that splendid tree--magnificent sight!

'I wonder it escaped the lumberers when they were here; they have
generally pretty well weeded the forests along this chain of lakes of
such fine timber as this spruce. I supp