"Nope. Are you?"
"Nope. I hope the ice-boat isn't broken. Bert wouldn't like that. Let's go and look."
As the children floundered out of the snow, which had been left from a storm that bad swept over the country before the lake had frozen, they heard a voice calling to them. Looking in the direction of the woods, they saw coming toward them an old man, wearing a big, ragged overcoat, a fur cap and mittens, while over his shoulder was an axe.
"Oh! oh!" said Flossie in a low voice. "Who—who's that, Freddie?"
"Oh, I know him. That's Uncle Jack, the woodchopper. He'll help us get the boat on the ice again, and I can sail it back home."
"Nope!" cried Flossie, shaking her flaxen curly head. "I'm never going to ride in an ice-boat with you any more. Never! You go too fast, and stop too quick. I'm going to walk home!"
"What's the matter, children?" asked Uncle Jack, and he came plowing his way through the snow, "Ah, your ice-boat is upset, I see! Well, you two are pretty small potatoes to be
