"And you couldn't go in five trials?"

"I didn't go. The first time I stepped on the pole my feet flew
out from under me and I sat down on the river about six or seven
feet below. I sat down hard too."

"Did you enjoy it?" laughed John.

"I did not," replied Fred slowly, "but the people on the docks
and along the banks seemed to have a fine time."

"What did you do next?" laughed George.

"I tied some old sacking on my feet and tried to wipe up the
grease as I went along. "

"And didn't that work?"

"Nay, verily it didn't work. I took my seat that time on the pole
and then when I slipped, I tried to throw my arms around it. But
for some good reason I didn't delay very long, before I dropped
with a splash into the St. Lawrence."

"I hope they will have those things this summer," spoke up John.

"You would be a good one to walk on a greased pole," said George
soberly. "You wouldn't take much space and if you could once get
a footing you could reach forward almost to the end and grab the
cup."