I'd be real bad to take it."

Hans shook his head resolutely as he trudged on, causing his
sister to half skip and half walk in her effort to keep beside
him. By this time they had taken off their wooden "rockers" and
were hastening home to tell their mother the good news.

"Oh! I know!" cried Gretel in a sprightly tone. "You can do
this. You can get a pair a little too small for you, and too big
for me, and we can take turns and use them. Won't that be fine?"
Gretel clapped her hands again.

Poor Hans! This was a strong temptation, but he pushed it away
from him, brave-hearted fellow that he was.

"Nonsense, Gretel. You could never get on with a big pair. You
stumbled about with these, like a blind chicken, before I curved
off the ends. No, you must have a pair to fit exactly, and you
must practice every chance you can get, until the twentieth
comes. My little Gretel shall win the silver skates."

Gretel could not help laughing with delight at the very idea.

"Hans! Gretel!" called out a familiar voice.

"Coming, Mother!"

They hastened toward the cottage, Hans still shaking the pieces
of silver in his hand.