"Clear the lulla!" was the general cry on a bright December
afternoon, when all the boys and girls of Harmony Village were
out enjoying the first good snow of the season. Up and down three
long coasts they went as fast as legs and sleds could carry them.
One smooth path led into the meadow, and here the little folk
congregated; one swept across the pond, where skaters were
darting about like water-bugs; and the third, from the very top of
the steep hill, ended abruptly at a rail fence on the high bank above
the road. There was a group of lads and lasses sitting or leaning on
this fence to rest after an exciting race, and, as they reposed, they
amused themselves with criticising their mates, still absorbed in
this most delightful of out-door sports.
"Here comes Frank Minot, looking as solemn as a judge," cried
one, as a tall fellow of sixteen spun by, with a set look about the
mouth and a keen sparkle of the eyes, fixed on the distant goal
with a do-or-die expression.