Mrs. Dudley resolved to go herself with her little son to the river, when the children went again. She did not tell him so, however; but the next day, when the merry skaters were in the midst of their enjoyment, she put on her hood, and her warm blanket-shawl, and thick gloves, and calling Eddie to her, wrapped him in his wadded coat and woollen tippet, and placing on his head his "liberty-cap,"--knit of red and black worsted, with a tassel dangling from the point--and pulling it well down over his ears, and covering his fat hands with warm mittens, they started out on the white snow. The snow was frozen sufficiently to bear them, and they had a pleasant walk above the hidden grass and stones. Eddie was in great glee. His mother enjoyed it almost as much as he did, for it was an exhilarating sight. Some of the boys were sliding, some skating, and others pushing sleds before them, on which a mother or sister were sitting. It reminded one of the pictures we often see of skating in Holland; and, to make the resemblance more perfect, a Dutchman was there with his pipe, defiling the pure, fresh air with its foul odour. Mrs. Dudley was invited to take a ride, and, leaving Eddie in the care of another, she was soon seated on one of the sleds, and speeding away before a rapid skater. She found it far more swift and agreeable than riding in the usual way. Eddie, too, had a ride, and his little heart was brimfull of happiness. He walked about on the ice quite carefully and fearlessly. The river, on which these children were, rises and falls with the tide. Eddie saw other boys sliding off towards an icy meadow bordering on it, and he thought he would go too. The ice formed an inclined plane; his feet slipped on its smooth surface, and down he went; he jumped up, but the blood from his nose, flowing over his face and coat, and staining the snow, frightened him, and he uttered a loud cry. The skaters were with him before his mother, though she was but a few steps away, for she could not move as quickly as they. It was pleasant to see their sympathy, and hear their kind inquiries. His mother soon comforted him; for he had not been cut by the ice as they feared. The blood from his nose testified to a pretty hard bump. He soon forgot the pain, and was as happy as ever. He will long remember his first sled ride on the river. Why do you think, dear children, I have told you this story about a child whom you have never seen? I wanted to ask you, or rather have you ask yourselves, if you are willing, as Eddie was, to do as your mother thinks best? Much as he wanted to go on the river, he felt satisfied to do as his mother wished. I hope, when you know what your mother prefers, you will make up your minds to give up your own plans, and be happy in doing so.