as complete; the voyagers tied down their fur caps over
their ears, strapped the dreadnought boots tightly, and launched forth.

'Throth, I donno how they do it at all, at all,' said Andy, who had lent
his strength to the curving of the sledge, and now shook his head as
he viewed them from the shore. 'I'd as soon go to walk on the edges of
knives as on them things they call skates; throth, betune the shoes as
long as yerself for the snow, an' the shoes wid soles as sharp as a
soord for the ice, our own ould brogues aren't much use to us. An' as
for calling that boord a boat, I hope they won't thry it on the wather,
that's all.'

As if he had discharged his conscience by this protesting soliloquy, Mr.
Callaghan turned on his heel, and tramped after Robert up to the shanty.

Meanwhile, the voyagers had struck out from the natural cove formed by
the junction of the creek with the pond, where were clumps of stately
reeds, stiffened like steel by the frost. The cedar boughs in the
swamp at the edge drooped lower than ever under their burden of snow;
the stems looked inky black, from contrast. The ice-boat pushed on
beautifully, with hardly any exertion, over the greyish glistening
surface of the lake.

'I fancy there's a bit of breeze getting up against us,' said Mr. Holt,
in a momentary pause from their rapid progression.

''Twill be in our backs coming home,' suggested Arthur, as an obvious
deduction.

'And if we can fix up a sail anyhow, we might press it into our service
to propel the sledge,' said Mr. Holt.

'Well, I never did hear of sails on dry land before,' said Arthur,
thereby proving his Irish antecedents; of which his quick-witted
companion was not slow to remind him.

'But I don't much admire that greyish look off there,' he added,
becoming grave, and pointing to a hazy discolouration in the eastern
skies. 'I shouldn't be surprised if we had a blow to-night; and our
easterly winds in winter always bring snow.'

Uncle Zack was lost in admiration of the spirit which projected and
executed this ice-boat voyage. 'Wal, you are a knowin' shave,' was his
complimentary observation to Mr. Holt. ''Twar a smart idee, and no
mistake. You'll only want to fix runners in front of the ice-sled goin'
back, an' 'twill carry any load as easy as drinkin'. 'Spose you han't
got an old pair of skates handy? I've most remarkable good 'uns at the
store, that'll cut right slick up to the Cedars in no time if tacked on
to the s