ve had some excuse for being proud of his geese, for
they were all fine, handsome birds, but, in his pride, he had filled
poor Nat's breast with envy.

Nat wanted some Christmas money as well as his friend, and to hear Al
loudly boast of what he intended doing with _his_ was maddening.

Gradually the seeds of discord sown between the two boys had sprouted
and taken root, and, being warmed and watered by Nat's jealousy and Al's
selfishness, were soon in a flourishing condition, and before
Thanksgiving the former chums refused even to speak to each other.

This state of affairs made Nat secretly very lonely, for Alvin was the
only other boy within a number of miles, and, being without either
brother or sister, Nat was absolutely companionless. But his pride would
not allow him to go to his former friend and "make up." Even when Al's
dog Towser came over to visit the Bascom's Bose, Nat drove him home with
a club, thus increasing the enmity between him and Towser's master.

This deplorable state of affairs continued to grow worse instead of
better as the holidays approached. One evening, a week or ten days
before Christmas, it commenced raining, but, becoming suddenly very cold
in the night, the rain turned to ice, and the following morning the
roofs, sheds, fences, trees--everything, in fact--was covered with a
coating of ice. With the beams of the rising sun shining over all, it
seemed a picture of fairy land.

But Nat Bascom arose that morning with an uglier feeling against Al Peck
than ever. Donning his outside garments, he went out to assist his
father in feeding the cattle.

The hay-stack behind the barn had a glittering coat of ice, and, as he
approached it, Nat discovered something else about it as well. Close to
the ground, on the lea of the stack, were a number of objects which Nat
quickly recognized as geese--thirteen of them.

"They're those plaguey geese of Al Peck's!" exclaimed Nat, as one of the
birds stretched out its long neck at his approach and uttered a
threatening "honk! honk!"

The geese tried to scuttle away as he came nearer, and then for the
first time Nat discovered that they, like the inanimate things about
them, were completely sheathed in ice; so much so, in fact, that they
could not use their wings.

Nat stood still a moment and thought.

"I know what I'll do," he said, aloud, "I'll put them in pound, same as
father did old Grayson's cattle last summer, and make Al pay me to get
the