CHAPTER XX
A COASTING EPISODE
Winter had come in earnest. November was drawing to a close, and leaving behind convincing evidence that it had claimed the right to be classed as a winter, rather than as a fall, month, for snow lay thick upon the ground, and coasting and sleighing made life gay for the young people of Springdale. Directly lessons were ended for the day, a merry party of girls and boys gathered upon the hill leading down from the chapel, and thick and fast sped the sleds down the steep descent. Given to original performances, it was no wonder that even coasting held a novel feature as indulged in by Denise, or that Ned Toodles had to share the fun in some way. Outsiders might have been of the opinion that there was but little fun in his share of it, but to judge from the manner in which he took part in it, there was far more than they suspected. Accustomed to following Denise as a dog would have followed her, he had trotted along one day when she started off with her sled for a spin, and had watched her with those wise eyes of his as she settled herself upon the sled and went whizzing down the hill. Then, with one grand, hilarious kick-up, off he pelted after her, and reached the bottom of the hill very nearly as soon as the sled reached it. That he felt immensely proud of his achievement was evinced by the sort of hurrah he cut up as she got up from the sled and started up the hill for another coast, for he pranced and curveted and was as gay and giddy as possible. Then, apparently grasping the situation, he trotted along beside Denise until he reached the top, and the whole performance was repeated. There were several other children coasting at the time, and Hart among them.
“Oh, say! What’s the matter with making him draw you up if he is so anxious to be in the fun?” he shouted, and thus it came about. The little Dutch collar and an old bridle were promptly brought from the Birds’ Nest, and, in far less time than it has taken to tell you about it, a whiffletree was rigged up, and fastened to the front of the sled and Ned harnessed to it. Then away he went up the hill dragging his little mistress to the top as easily as winking, and sometimes another sled “cutting” behind hers. After one or two trips he understood exactly what was expected of him, and the moment Denise’s sled started down the hill he was off after it like a shot. Reins and traces were carefully fastened so that he could not trip over them, and he usually managed to bring up at the foot of the hill very nearly as soon as Denise. That he was often borrowed by some of the other children need hardly be added.
The coasting was at its very best when one morning on his way to school Hart stopped to give the signal whistle, which promptly brought Denise upon the piazza.
“Are you coming out on the hill this afternoon?” he asked.
“You would better believe I am! This is the finest day we have had yet. I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Denise replied.
“Well, you’ll see a show if you do. Charlie and Archie are coming out on the two o’clock train, and they are going to bring Lionel Algenon Montgomery with them, ha! ha! I say, that fellow is a piece of work, and if we don’t have a regular circus before this day is over then my name isn’t Hart Murray. Of all the Miss Nancys you ever saw he is just the greatest, and I dare say he will pad himself all up with cotton wool before he risks his precious bones upon anything so dangerous as a sled. Just wait until you see him, that’s all,” and Hart laughed as though the very thought of Lionel Algenon was enough to stir up any right-minded boy.
“Who is he, any way?” asked Denise, her eyes already twinkling.
“The greatest chump you ever heard tell of. He lives next door to Archie and Charlie, and is his mamma’s precious only son. How she ever made up her mind to let him come out here with my cousins I’m sure I don’t know, for he never stirs ten steps without either her or his tutor. Maybe she thinks that he is coming among such models that no harm can come to him. We’ll see,” and, with a farewell wave of his school-bag, Hart went tearing across the lawn.
When two o’clock came, Hart and his guests came with it. All extra sleds to be obtained by either borrowing or begging had been pressed into service, and yet the supply was one short, but turn about was fair play, and so no great harm threatened.
“Hullo, Denise!” called out the boys, for they had often visited Hart before, and looked upon her as one of themselves. “This is our friend, Lionel Montgomery. Denise Lombard, Lionel,” was the boyish, off-hand introduction.
Now Lionel Algenon Montgomery had been taught that it was highly reprehensible to address a strange young lady by her Christian name, even though she were but twelve years of age and he fourteen, so, making his very best dancing-school bow, he lisped politely:
“Charmed to meet you, Miss Lombard,” and then stood waiting for that young lady to take up the conversation. But Denise was far from being the society young lady he imagined, and nearly laughed in his face as she said:
“I am afraid that I shall have to wait a few years before I can be called Miss Lombard, and meantime I’ll be just Denise, if you don’t mind. I guess we can have lots more fun coasting and snowballing if we don’t have to think that we may bang off Mr. Murray’s cap, or upset Miss Lombard in the snow.”
“Oh, I shall be charmed if you will allow me,” was the stilted, unnatural reply.
“I am afraid I shouldn’t know who you were talking to if you didn’t,” was the laughing answer. “But let’s begin our coasting before this lovely day is all gone,” and off she started for the “Birds’ Nest,” the boys tearing after her. At least, three of them “tore;” the fourth one paced along behind them as though he were promenading down Fifth Avenue. Presently Ned was brought from his stall, the bridle and collar put upon him, and off they started.
Now, Chapel hill had one peculiarity, and that peculiarity needed to be studied. In the first place, it was a steep hill, and at the foot of it ran a road at right angles to the descent. During the summer the hill was covered with a luxuriant growth of clover, from which Mr. Lombard harvested a fine supply of hay for his horses. Where the fields bordered the road, a steep terrace, fully five feet high, made it impossible for a hay-wagon to enter it, but, to overcome that obstacle, the men had dug the terrace away in one place and made a gradual incline about ten feet wide, through which they could drive in and out without taking a flying leap into the roadway with their load. It was through this incline that the coasters guided their sleds, whizzing through it and out upon the smooth road, to make a sharp turn and go bounding on to the very edge of Mr. Lombard’s grounds, where they had thrown up a great pile of snow for a bumper.
“Clear the track!” shouted Hart, flinging himself upon his sled, to go spinning down the hill, through the hay-wagon’s entranceway, and on pell-mell to the bottom, the other boys hard after him, leaving Lionel to do the gallant for Denise if she felt disposed to accept it.
“Here, take my sled and have a spin,” she said. “The boys will be back in a minute, and I can have one of theirs.”
“Oh, no! I couldn’t think of depriving you. Besides, I don’t know that I shall coast. It seems so dangerous.”
“Mercy, me! No, it isn’t. You couldn’t get hurt if you wanted to. All you have got to do is steer straight down where we have gone, and you will come out all right. Go on! It’s great fun, and Ned will pull you up,” and she held her sled-rope toward him.
“I will watch you go first. I am not accustomed to very violent exercise. Mamma does not approve of it.”
“I guess she wouldn’t call coasting such violent exercise,” said Denise, as she settled herself upon the sled, gave the necessary hitch forward, and spun off over the icy hill, whistling for Ned to follow.
By this time the boys were coming up, and became conscious of their own shortcomings.
“Say, fellows, we need to be thumped,” cried Charlie, in contrition. “Look at Lionel standing up there. He hasn’t got so much as a shingle to coast down on.”
“Bet five cents he won’t coast anyway. If he did he would want to roll himself up in a bearskin to keep warm,” was Archie’s comment.
“I’m the one who ought to be thrashed. Wonder what sort of a host mother would say I am. Say, Lionel, we’ll be up in a minute, and then you can have a go! Awful sorry I didn’t think of my manners sooner. There you are,” and Hart brought his sled up with a flourish.
“Thanks, awfully, but I don’t think that I care to go down. I’ll just watch you fellows. It’s pretty steep, don’t you know.”
“Why, it’s the finest you ever saw! Not a bit steep. Just try it, and see if it isn’t just O. K. Take any sled you like, but mine’s a hummer.”
“It is a very low one, don’t you think so?” asked Lionel, eying askance the rakish little sled built for speed and endurance, as a boy’s sled has need to be.
“Why you can’t do a thing with them if they are high!” was the rather derisive comment.
“Denise seems to manage hers very well,” replied Lionel, as Denise came up, Ned supplying the motive power.
“Oh, she coasts girl fashion, of course. No fun in that! Got to go a whopper if you want to have fun,” cried Archie.
“Seems to me I would prefer sitting up straight. Really, I should not like to have my head get there first,” was the remark which caused Charlie to cry:
“You want to ‘get in with both feet,’ do you?”
“Well, it would not hurt so much if one met with an accident, don’t you know,” was the reply, given in all seriousness.
“Will you go down on my sled?” asked Denise.
“Why, I hate to deprive you of it, but, really,—well, I think that, perhaps, I could manage that one better than the others, if you will let me take it.”
“Of course you may take it, and Ned will be at the bottom of the hill nearly as quick as you are,” cried Denise.
“Really? Will he follow me as he follows you? What a remarkable pony,” said Lionel, reaching toward Ned to stroke him, whereat Ned gave a comical bounce and evaded him.
“Well, let’s do something beside standing here and freezing,” added Ned’s mistress, for she was accustomed to going up and down in hot pursuit of the other sleds, and found this polite parleying rather cold work.
With many adjustings and false starts, questions as to whether it would not be wiser to keep to one side of the well-beaten slide, lest he lose control of the sled where the descent was so glassy, and if he should put down his left or his right heel if he wished to go to the right, Lionel Algenon, at last, got started amidst a hurrah of shouts at the send-off. It may have been the hurrah, and it may have been the sight of the long stretch of gleaming snow which spread before him like ground glass, or it may have been wicked Ned Toodles careering along just behind him, that caused him to become disconcerted long before the bottom of the hill was reached. Whatever it was, the climax came very speedily.
“Keep in the track! Oh, keep in the track!” shouted those following close behind him. “You’ll jump the terrace if you steer way over to that side. Go through the opening where we went! You’ll smash the sled to bits if you go over the bank!”
But their warnings fell upon deaf ears. Lionel felt that sled spinning along beneath him at a rate which struck terror to his very soul, and turned instinctively into the softer snow at the side of the beaten path. But that snow was treacherous, for it was merely a light coating of new-fallen snow upon a hard crust underneath, and his speed was hardly a particle lessened. On sped the sled with a perfect shower of fine, dry snow plowing up in front of it, and nearly blinding the bewildered boy. Through the opening whizzed the other two boys, landing in the road safe and right side up just in time to see Denise’s sled, with Lionel clinging to it with both hands, come bounding over the terrace with one wild, flying leap, and land in front of them. Whatever saved them from piling on top of it was a miracle. Then came the end, and when they finally got their sleds stopped, and made their way back to the spot, there sat Lionel, still clinging to the side bars, the sled beneath him, which was flattened out as though it had been put beneath a letterpress.
“I really think that I prefer not coasting any more,” he remarked, as they assisted him to his feet.
“Well, until Denise gets another sled I don’t believe you will. What the dickens made you do such a fool thing as try to jump that terrace, anyway?” demanded Archie, with some spirit, for he was growing just a trifle tired of “taking care of a sissy,” as he dubbed Lionel, and his own day was being spoiled by this boy’s affectations.
“I did not see the terrace, and the other path was very slippery.”
“You don’t expect to coast on sandpaper, do you?” demanded Charlie.
“Well, I think it would be nicer to coast on level ground. Then there would be no real danger.”
“Oh, go get an automobile,” was the natural, boyish retort.
“Yes, really, I think that I shall ask mamma to get me one. One can keep so comfortable, don’t you know.”