“Well, I ’m glad air-holes are good for something,” said Oscar; “they ’re troublesome enough to skaters.  Jim Anderson skated right into one the other day, and came pretty near getting drowned.  But I always keep my eyes open for them.  I never got into one yet.”

“You cannot be too careful when you are on the ice,” remarked Mrs. Preston.  “I felt so uneasy, that I was just going to send Ralph in search of you, when you got home.”

After that day it required considerable coaxing to induce Tiger to go upon the boys’ skating-ground.  He manifested a decided preference to remain upon the shore, and look on; and when he did venture to accompany his master, he kept close by his side, and travelled over the treacherous ice with a degree of circumspection, which said very plainly, “You won’t catch me in that scrape again, master Oscar!”

But there was nothing that the boys enjoyed more at this season of the year, than a real good snowstorm.  Such a storm they were favored with during this month.  It came on in the evening, and the next morning, when they arose, their basement windows were more than half buried up in snow, and the drifts, in some places, were higher than Oscar’s head.  The streets were deserted and almost impassable.  Thick crusts of snow hung over the roofs of the long blocks of houses; while the blinds, windows, doors and balustrades were heavily trimmed with the same delicate material.  The huge banks which stretched themselves along the street and sidewalk, were as yet undisturbed; for the few passers-by had been glad to pick their way through the valleys.  The wind roared and piped among the chimneys and house-tops, and whisked through narrow passage-ways, and whistled through the smallest cracks and crevices, in its merriest and busiest mood.  Now it would scoop up a cloud of snow from the street, and bear it up far above the house-tops, and then it would repay the debt by gathering a fleecy wreath from some neighboring roof, and sweeping it into the street beneath.  The storm still continued with unabated severity, and the air was so full of snow, that one could hardly see the length of the street.

After a hasty breakfast, the boys tucked the bottoms of their trowsers into their boots, and sallied forth, to explore the half-buried streets.  And now the light snow-balls began to fly thick and fast, and every few moments, one and another would measure his full length in some deep drift, which for a moment almost buried him from sight.  Tiger, who accompanied them, entered fully into the sport, and very good-naturedly received his share of the snowballs and snow-baths.  But their exercise was too violent to be continued a great while.  They soon returned home, coated with snow from head to heel, and the cheeks of the boys glowing with health and enjoyment.

“After you get rested, Oscar,” said Mr. Preston, who was just leaving for the store, “I want you to shovel a path in front of the house.”