the sled, which was tied to him with a very primitive arrangement of
ropes, the sled constantly swinging round and hitting him on the legs,
which he naturally resented and kicked viciously.

We amused ourselves very much as long as the snow lasted, about ten
days--coasted often, and made excursions to the neighbouring villages
with the sled and the donkey. We wanted to skate, but that was not
easy to arrange, as the ponds and "tourbières" near us were very deep,
and I was afraid to venture with the children. I told Hubert, the
coachman, who knew the country well, to see what he could find. He
said there was a very good pond in the park of the château of La
Ferté, and he was sure the proprietor, an old man who lived there by
himself, would be quite pleased to let us come there.

The old gentleman was most amiable--begged we would come as often as
we liked--merely making one condition, that we should have a man on
the bank (the pond was only about a foot deep) with a rope in case of
accidents.... We went there nearly every afternoon, and made quite a
comfortable "installation" on the bank: a fire, rugs, chairs and a
very good little goûter, the grocer's daughter bringing us hot wine
and biscuits from the town.

It was a perfect sight for La Ferté. The whole town came to look at
us, and the carters stopped their teams on the road to look on--one
day particularly when one of our cousins, Maurice de Bunsen,[3] was
staying with us. He skated beautifully, doing all sorts of figures,
and his double eights and initials astounded the simple country folk.
For some time after they spoke of "l'Anglais" who did such wonderful
things on the ice.