will be the best skating these many years, for the ice is fimi, 

 and in rare order. You shall go, my boy. Neighbonr 

 Wigraore, who skates well, will let you go with his party; 

 indeed he told me all about it. You shall go, my boy, for 

 it 's Christmas week, and I will ride round and see the fun 

 after I have visited my patients. You shall go, lad." 

 " Thank yon, father." (Ho hated to be Pa'd.) 

 The doctor had just got another horse. His wife declared 

 (what will not wives declare !) that lie had a new steed every 

 month ; that each was an angel the first week, a good nag 

 the second, " hang it ! rather shy" the third, and " a brute " 

 the fourth. Well, a doctor is tied by the leg to his pro- 

 fession, and as lie cannot get change, it seems but fair tliat 

 he should have a change of steeds. Besides, the doctor had 

 an account book, which showed that at the end of the year 

 he was gaioer rather than loser by horse dealing. 



" Eat a good breakfast, my boy. Here 's another rasher of 

 bacon ; it came on a dead horse," i. e. it was brought instead 

 of money by some honest cottager to liquidate his debt to the 

 doctor. However, there was one man, a blacksmith, who 

 always got over the doctor. The man's wife was frequently 

 ailing ; besides, she presented her husband each year for a 

 dozen years with that kind of "comic annual" called a 

 baby, but the fellow never paid the doctor. It was always 

 the same quiet gentlemanly manner and phrase, "You, 

 doctor, do the best by Mrs. Stonely, and I will do the best 

 by you." This coolness, and a certain likeness he bore to 

 a cousin of the doctor's, always softened the good man's 

 heart, and he did the best for Mrs. Stonely, but Mr. Stonely 

 did not do the best by him, never paying him one shilling. 

 But to our tale. The morning was bright and clear ; Ihere 

 had been snow, but not deep ; no need of much swecijing, 

 much less for digging the paths. Harry was soon oft' j he 



first flew his Timiblers, though. He found the wliole to\in 

 •was alive with the thoughts of the races which were to be on 

 the mere, some miles distant. The men who went about 

 with turf carts every morning— the poor did not buy coal, but 

 turves (dried peat), each about the size of two bricks— told 

 their customers about the races while they stood beating their 

 hands across then- breasts. And the old women, handing 

 their three pennies (good old cart-wheel pennies), told back 

 of the races when they were young. " It was the year, bless 

 you, poor young Spicherley was drowned, &e., &e., &c." 

 Few were the farmers seen going farming tliat morning. 

 Only a few old fogies crept to the reading-room — for there 

 was one even in those days — but very dear, very poor in 

 papers and books, and very exclusive" The male popula- 

 tion, man and boy, were going ott' to the mere. Ilarry 

 heard such remarks as these : " The frost "ill last, for didn't 

 you see the wild ducks fly over the town yesterday after- 

 noon ?" " Aye, bor, and I seed a sea-gull ; he wor flying 



right across the drove." The crowds were wending the 

 way towards which tlie mere lay. Some riding, more in 

 gigs — three in a gig, that uncomfortable arrangement ; but 

 the majority were going to skate there, for fenmen could 

 all skate. Many had first put on their " pattens " — local 

 name for skates — by the fire, and learned to stand in them 

 on their mother's wash-tub. 



Skates in hand, with neighbour Wigmore's party, Harry 

 started oflF, with comforter round his neck, and tucked into 

 his buttoned-up jacket, but no great coat on ; such WTaps 

 were for muffs who rode or walked, poor fellows ! 



Harry listened with eager ears to the remarks about the 

 chance of winning wliich the champion runner of his town had, 

 — one Bellmore, a ros}--cheeked and quiet labouring man, quite 

 a nobody, except «hcn there was frost, then he became a hero, 

 or at least a notoriety. He was one of a large family, and 

 had an uncle who bore a bad character lor pilfering ; he 

 was the black .sheep of the Bellmores. This fellow was 

 entering an orchard tlirough its hedge, with a design, doubt- 

 less, upon its apples. However, the farmer was on the watch, 

 and as Bellmore got safe through the hedge, the farmer called 

 out — "Where arc you going, Bellmore?" The cool knave 

 replied, "Back ag.ain, sir, now I sec you." He was for ever 

 after known as " Backagain Bellmore," to mark him from 

 the thirty others of the name. 



The mere could be reached on the ice by two ways, — one 

 by the river (itself, indeed, a huge dyke), this w.is the longer 

 way, — the other by the fen drains. The latter Harry's party 

 chose. The skates are soon on, and off' they go. 



" Why, Mr. Wigiuore, if there 's not old Asthmatical Tom 

 out bird-catching, as usual," said Harry. 



On they go, along the straight drain, having, however, to 

 walk across the bridge, which was a nuisance. There were 

 six of the party, close following one another, stroke 

 by stroke, and each stroke taken by each skater at 

 the same time. 



" Oh ! how my feet ache, Mr. Wigmore." 

 "Never mind, Ilariy, that will soon wear od." 

 ; - " Do stop, please." " No; we shall be late. 



.:2 --'■ ■ Be a brave boy." They reach the end of 

 the long drain, and have to walk across a 

 wide road to get to the "Leam." "Leam ! 

 What's that?" says my good reader. Well, 

 friend — for so I will deem you if you travel 

 ]iatiently with me to the end — you will not 

 find the word in any dictionary ; but in the 

 fens are many words of I'Cculiar sound and sig- 

 nification. " Leam" is a large dyke, the width of 

 a canal, cut jirobably by the eaily Dutch drainers. 

 Tins leam, — but Harry found it awkward work 

 to walk across the road in skates to get to it, to 

 ttering, foot-aching work, and some distance, 

 too. At length the " Ijcam" is reached, and on 

 the smooth ice glide the ]Jarty, while before them, 

 beside them, behind them, are numerous other 

 parties skating away as only fen men can skate. 

 This "Leam" was a rare place in summer for 

 catching bream, — "Bellows Bream," as they 

 were called, from their shape somewhat resem- 

 bling and size nearly equalling that of a 

 ])air of bellows. Another roail to cross, another 

 dyke to reach, then crossing from dyke to dyke. (Oh, 

 these horrid low bridges, straight and flat, which no one 

 could get under.) Oh, that horrid walking in skates. "Come, 

 Harry, the races will have begun." " What's that great wood, 

 only they don't look like trees, Mr. Wigmore ? " " Why, 

 boy, that is the mere ; and that tliick wood, as you call it, is 

 acres upon acres of reed that grow round it. But on a spurt, 

 Harry." And the boy did ; and soon the reed forest is 

 entered by a narrow ice path, some way which, being flooded 

 and frozen, afforded an entrance to the skaters. 



The reed stood high above head, and, growing close and 

 straight, looked like some monster field of corn in " Brob- 

 dignag." As the wind whistled through it, and brought 

 bits of frozen snow from the tops, and the reed swayed gently, 

 now this w.ay, now that, it sent forth a strange, shrill, piercing 

 sound. This reed was a great source of profit to the owners. 

 It supplied the best covering for houses, — neat-looking, warm 

 in winter, cool in summer, so unlike the thin cold slates, but 



•f- 



