"My sister has not complained of the cold, but this is bitter
weather, they all say." And he looked sadly upon Gretel.

"It is nothing," said Gretel. "I am often warm--too warm when I
am skating. You are good, jufvrouw, *{Miss; young lady
(pronounced yuffrow). In studied or polite address it would be
jongvrowe (pronounced youngfrow).} to think of it."

"No, no," answered Hilda, quite angry at herself. "I am
careless, cruel, but I meant no harm. I wanted to ask you--I
mean, if--" And here Hilda, coming to the point of her errand,
faltered before the poorly clad but noble-looking children she
wished to serve.

"What is it, young lady?" exclaimed Hans eagerly. "If there is
any service I can do, any--"

"Oh, no, no," laughed Hilda, shaking off her embarrassment. "I
only wished to speak to you about the grand race. Why do you not
join it? You both can skate well, and the ranks are free.
Anyone may enter for the prize."

Gretel looked wistfully at Hans, who, tugging at his cap,
answered respectfully.

"Ah, jufvrouw, even if we could enter, we could skate only a few
strokes with the rest. Our skates are hard wood, you
see"--holding up the sole of his foot--"but they soon become
damp, and then they stick and trip us."