the contrary, his companions
thought and called him a "jolly good fellow." His father was a jolly,
though a gouty old widower. Perhaps it was owing to the fact that there
was no mother in the household that Ned smoked a meerschaum in the
breakfast-room while he read the paper.

"Have my skates been sharpened?" he asked, looking over the top of the
paper.

James said that they had been sharpened, and were then lying ready on
the hall table.

Sauntering to the window Ned looked out, and, James having retired, he
made a few remarks himself, which showed the direction of his thoughts.

"Capital! Ice will be splendid. Snow won't matter. Lots of men to
sweep it. Looks as if the wind would fall, and there's a little bit of
blue sky. Even if it doesn't clear, the pond is well sheltered. I do
like a sharp, stinging, frosty day. Makes one's blood career so
pleasantly!"

With such agreeable thoughts and a splendid appetite Ned Westlake sat
down to breakfast. Thereafter he put on a thick overcoat, edged with
sable, a thick pair of boots and softly lined gloves, and went out with
the skates swinging on his arm.

Jack Frost and his two sons were still holding high revelry outside.
They met him with impartial violence, but Ned bent forward with a smile
of good-humoured defiance, and went on his way unchecked.

Not so a stout and short old female of the coster-monger class, who,
after a series of wild gyrations that might have put a dancing dervish
to shame, bore down on Ned after the manner of a fat teetotum, and
finally launched herself into his arms.

"Hallo old girl--steady," exclaimed Ned, holding her up with an effort.
"You carry too much sail to venture abroad in such weather."

"Which it were my only one!" gasped the old woman, holding out her
umbrella that had been reversed and obviously shattered beyond repair.
Then, looking up at Ned, "You'd better leave a-go of me, young man.
What will the neighbours think of us?"

Which remark she uttered sternly--all the more that she had securely
hooked herself to the railings and could afford to cast off her friend.

With a solemn assurance that he esteemed her, "the sweetest of the
fair," Ned went smilingly on his way, receiving in reply, "La, now,
who'd 'a' thought it!"

Having twisted this lady's bonnet off, blown her unkempt hair straight
out, and otherwise maltreated her, Colonel Wind, with his father and
brother, went raging along the streets until he came