because it is short and bad,” he said, still good-natured, though of
cows, dogs, and boys who made faces and called her “Fraidcat.
“He doesn’t dare to get mad with Jill, for she’d take his head off in
two minutes if he did,” growled Joe Flint, still smarting horn the
rebuke Jill had given him for robbing the little ones of their safe
coast because he fancied it.
“She wouldn’t! she’s a dear! You needn’t sniff at her because she is
poor. She’s ever so much brighter than you are, or she wouldn’t
always be at the head of your class, old Joe,” cried the girls,
standing by their friend with a unanimity which proved what a
favorite she was.
Joe subsided with as scornful a curl to his nose as its chilly state
permitted, and Merry Grant introduced a subject of general interest
by asking abruptly,
“Who is going to the candy-scrape to-night?”
“All of us. Frank invited the whole set, and we shall have a tiptop
time. We always do at the Minors’,” cried Sue, the timid trembler.
“Jack said there was a barrel of molasses in the house, so there
would be enough for all to eat and some to carry away. They know
how to do things handsomely”; and the speaker licked his lips, as if
already tasting the feast in store for him.
“Mrs. Minot is a mother worth having,” said Molly Loo, coming up
with Boo on the sled; and she knew what it was to need a mother,
for she had none, and tried to care for the little brother with
maternal love and patience.
“She is just as sweet as she can be!” declared Merry,
enthusiastically.
“Especially when she has a candy-scrape,” said Joe, trying to be
amiable, lest he should be left out of the party.
Whereat they all laughed, and went gayly away for a farewell
frolic, as the sun was setting and the keen wind nipped fingers and
toes as well as noses.
A little hurt at the charge of cowardice; for Jack was as brave as a
little lion, and with the best sort of bravery the courage to do right.
“So it is; but I must do it a few times, or Joe will plague me and
spoil my fun to-night,” answered Jill, shaking her skirts and
rubbing her blue hands, wet and cold with the snow.
“Here, put these on; I never use them. Keep them if they fit; I only
carry them to please mother.” And Jack pulled out a pair of red
mittens with the air of a boy used to giving away.
“They are lovely warm, and they do fit. Must be too small for your
paws, so I’ll knit you a new pair for Christmas, and make you wear
them, too,” said Jill, putting on the mittens with a nod of thanks,
and ending her speech with a stamp of her rubber boots to enforce
her threat.
Jack laughed, and up they trudged to the spot whence the three
coasts diverged.
“Now, which will you have?” he asked, with a warning look in the
honest blue eyes which often unconsciously controlled naughty Jill
against her will.
“That one!” and the red mitten pointed firmly to the perilous path
just tried.
“You will do it?”
“Come on, then, and hold tight.”
Jack’s smile was gone now, and he waited without a word while
Jill tucked herself up, then took his place in front, and off they
went on the brief, breathless trip straight into the drift by the fence
below.
“I don’t see anything very awful in that. Come up and have another.
Joe is watching us, and I d like to show him that we aren’t afraid of
anything,” said Jill, with a defiant glance at a distant boy, who had
paused to watch the descent.
“It is a regular ‘go-bang, if that is what you like,” answered Jack,
as they plowed their way up again.
“It is. You boys think girls like little mean coasts without any fun
or danger in them, as if we couldn’t be brave and strong as well as
you. Give me three go-bangs and then we’ll stop. My tumble