“Now, boys, come home,” said she, as she took off her skates, too much exhausted by her recent alarm to give the lecture the boys so richly deserved for their carelessness.
With Bert at her side, she started to walk home, closely followed by four crestfallen lads, who, though speechless, telegraphed to each other, in dumb show, behind her back, that they were going to be scolded. The culprits presented a forlorn appearance. Rob’s bump was already showing various rainbow hues, while Sam’s nose had no less quickly developed the size, shape, and color of a prize radish, and Phil’s lip had grown decidedly puffy. As they reached the Carters’ gate, Bess raised her eyes to the window where Fred, a dark little figure against the brightly lighted room, was sitting to listen for her step. Then she turned to the boys.
“Now, my boys,” she said, “I wonder if you know how near you came to being drowned, or worse. It was a crazy thing to do, that ice-boat of yours, and I am thankful that you only have some swollen eyes and noses to remember it by. Don’t do it again, children. You didn’t think
