when the children went again. She did not tell him so, however; but
the next day, when the merry skaters were in the midst of their
enjoyment, she put on her hood, and her warm blanket-shawl, and thick
gloves, and calling Eddie to her, wrapped him in his wadded coat and
woollen tippet, and placing on his head his "liberty-cap,"--knit of
red and black worsted, with a tassel dangling from the point--and
pulling it well down over his ears, and covering his fat hands with
warm mittens, they started out on the white snow. The snow was frozen
sufficiently to bear them, and they had a pleasant walk above the
hidden grass and stones.

Eddie was in great glee. His mother enjoyed it almost as much as he
did, for it was an exhilarating sight. Some of the boys were sliding,
some skating, and others pushing sleds before them, on which a mother
or sister were sitting. It reminded one of the pictures we often see
of skating in Holland; and, to make the resemblance more perfect, a
Dutchman was there with his pipe, defiling the pure, fresh air with
its foul odour.

Mrs. Dudley was invited to take a ride, and, leaving Eddie in the care
of another, she was soon seated on one of the sleds, and speeding away
before a rapid skater. She found it far more swift and agreeable than
riding in the usual way. Eddie, too, had a ride, and his little heart
was brimfull of happiness. He walked about on the ice quite carefully
and fearlessly.

The river, on which these children were, rises and falls with the
tide. Eddie saw other boys sliding off towards an icy meadow bordering
on it, and he thought he would go too. The ice formed an inclined
plane; his feet slipped on its smooth surface, and down he went; he