"Tut! my lad, when I was your age I would have thought nothing of double the distance, if only a certain person were at the end of it," replied Mr. Ross, with a meaning smile at his wife as he added, "But perhaps you have no such attraction." "Not I," laughed Bob. "I’m going for the sake of the supper; but I won’t answer for Phil," looking quizzically at his brother, who blushed violently and made a timely diversion by springing up and saying,— "Come along, Bob; let us get at our work, cold or no cold." Whereupon the two lads went off together. Mr. Eoss owned one of the largest and finest among the many farms that bordered upon Lake St. Louis. Although he was what might be called a gentleman farmer, he was a thoroughly practical farmer too. He made his farm pay him handsomely, and thought so well of his occupation that he had brought up his two boys to follow it also. When they were grown men he would divide the greater part of his property between them, reserving only sufficient to keep himself and his wife in independent comfort during the remainder of their days. The two sons, Phil and Bob, at the time of my story about sixteen and fourteen years of age respectively, were as satisfactory a pair of boys as parents could wish. One, the elder, tall and dark, the other short and fair, both were strong, healthy, hearty lads, full of spirit, and fond enough of having their own way, but thoroughly sound at heart and passionately fond of father and mother. Although trained to all kinds of farm work, their education had not been by any means neglected. They had had a good share of schooling, and Mr. Ross never went into the city without bringing back a new book or the latest magazine, so that they might keep up with the spirit of the times. The church festival Bob spoke of was to take place the following evening at Beauharnois, a village that stood straight across the lake "as the crow flies" a distance of about eight miles. The snow was in capital condition for snow-shoeing, and the two sturdy boys thought nothing of the tramp there and back. They would start from home at four in the afternoon, make Beauharnois about six, enjoy themselves there to the best of their ability until ten, and then set off for home, where they ought to turn up soon after midnight. Much to their gratification, the cold next morning showed signs of moderating. "Looks as if the weather-clerk was interested in the festival," remarked Phil in the course of the morning, his beaming face revealing clearly enough that others than the weather-clerk were interested in the same event. "I’m glad it isn’t quite so keen as yesterday," answered Bob. "A fellow will enjoy the spread all the better for not going to it with his nose frozen."