road; but very few vehicles had
passed, and the snow was as hard as ice. All the establishment
"assisted" at the first trial, and the stable-boy accompanied us with
the donkey who was to pull the sled up the hill.

We had some little difficulty in starting, Pauline and I in front,
Francis behind; but as soon as we got fairly on the slope the thing
flew. Pauline was frightened to death, screaming, and wanted to get
off; but I held her tight, and we landed in the ditch near the foot of
the hill. Half-way down (the hill is steep but straight, one sees a
great distance) Francis saw the diligence arriving; and as he was not
quite sure of his steering-gear, he thought it was better to take no
risks, and steered us straight into the ditch as hard as we could go.
The sled upset; we all rolled off into the deep soft snow, lost our
hats, and emerged quite white from head to foot.

The diligence had stopped at the foot of the hill. There were only two
men in it besides the driver, the old Pere Jacques, who was
dumbfounded when he recognized Madame Waddington. It seems they
couldn't think what had happened. As they got to the foot of the hill,
they saw a good many people at the gate of the chateau; then suddenly
something detached itself from the group and rushed wildly down the
hill. They thought it was an accident, some part of a carriage broken,
and before they had time to collect their senses the whole thing
collapsed in the ditch. The poor old man was quite disturbed--couldn't
think we were not hurt, and begged us to get into the diligence and
not trust ourselves again to such a dangerous vehicle. However we
reassured him, and all walked up the hill together, the donkey pulling
the sled, which was tied to him with a very primitive arrangement of
ropes, the sled constantly swinging round and hitting him on the legs,
which he naturally resented and kicked viciously.

We amused ourselves very much as long as the snow lasted, about ten
days--coasted often, and made excursions to the neighbouring villages
with the sled and the donkey. We wanted to skate, but that was not
easy to arrange, as the ponds and "tourbieres" near us were very deep,
and I was afraid to venture with the children. I told Hubert, the
coachman, who knew the country well, to see what he could find. He
said there was a very good pond in the park of the chateau of La
Ferte, and he was sure the proprietor, an old man who lived there by
himself, would be quite p