Animals -- Juvenile fiction; Boys -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; Obedience -- Juvenile fiction
"I presume," said Jonas, "that the boys are out skating, and this is a
fire on the ice, which they have built."
"And are those the boys moving about?" asked Oliver.
"Yes," said Jonas. "When they are near the fire, the light shines upon
their faces."
As they rode on, it became gradually more and more evident that Jonas
was right. The forms of the skaters, as they stood before the fire, or
came wheeling up to it, became more and more distinct, and, in fact, the
ringing sound of the skates soon became audible. The horse, in the mean
time, went on, with great speed, directly towards the fire. When they
arrived near the fire, the skaters came around them in great numbers,
wondering who could have come. Jonas asked them where they got the wood
to build their fire.
"All along the shore," said a large boy, with a long stick in his hand.
"Let's go and get some more, boys," he added, "and brighten up our
fire."
So saying, he wheeled round and skated away, the whole crowd of skaters,
small and great, following him at full speed. As they swept round by the
fire, the light glared brightly upon their faces and forms, but they
soon disappeared from view in the darkness beyond; only Jonas could
hear the sound of their skates, ringing over the ice, as they receded.
"What a great, hot fire!" said Oliver.
"Yes," said Isabella, "I never saw such a large fire on the ice. I don't
see how they got all the wood."
"I suppose," said Jonas, "that they got out the wood from the forest,
along the shore, and threw it out upon the ice, before they put on their
skates, and then they could easily bring it to the fire. But hark! they
are coming back again."
The fire was so bright where they were, and it flashed so strongly upon
the ice around, that they could not see the skaters until they came
pretty near. The dark figures, however, soon began to appear. The
foremost was a tall young man, who came forward with great speed,
pushing before him a long and slender log, half decayed and dry. One end
he held before him in his hands, and the other glided along upon the
smooth ice towards the fire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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