bean-poles, crossed and re-crossed, bearing a red and yellow horse-blanket, spread as a sail. Seated in state on the four corners of this platform, each waving a diminutive flag, sat Rob, Ted, Bert, and Phil, while on an inverted keg in the middle stood Sam, blowing on a tin horn with such energy that his crimson cheeks looked ready to pop, like an overheated kernel of corn. There was no way to guide or stop this unwieldy ice-boat, when once it was well under way. For a moment, Bess watched it in amusement, until her friend suddenly exclaimed,—
“The dam! They don’t think of it!”
True enough! They were rapidly approaching the edge of the ice; beyond lay a strip of still, green water, before it took its final plunge down on the rocks thirty feet below. The two women looked up the pond. There was no one near to help, and, besides, what could any one do? The boys were rushing to certain death; could it be that in the twilight they did not see their danger? But at that moment Bess saw them spring up, run to their improvised sail and try to pull it down, as if hoping in
