26 THE CHILDREN OF THE COLD. 



ing hold, down it comes ! perhaps right 

 on Boreas's bare back, where it flattens 

 out like a slushy pancake or into his 

 face, as it once served me. For one of 

 these snow-balls about the size of my fist 

 fell plumb into a tin-cup full of soup just 

 as I was about drinking from it, and 

 splashed half of the soup in my face. 

 Once or twice I have seen these slushy 

 snow-balls fall down the back of a person 

 sitting upon the bed ; and when the cold 

 slush gets in between the skin and the 

 reindeer coat well, you can easily be- 

 lieve that it does not feel agreeable. 



