There are some familiar faces near the white columns. Lambert, Ludwig, Peter, and Carl are all there, cool and in good skating order. Hans is not far off. Evidently he is going to join in the race, for his skates are on. Carl is more indignant than ever about it, but as three other peasant boys have entered, Hans is not alone.

Twenty boys and twenty girls. The latter by this time are standing in front, braced for the start, for they are to have the first "run." Hilda, Rychie, and Katrinka are among them - two or three bend hastily to give a last pull at their skate-straps. It is pretty to see them stamp, to be sure that all is firm. Hilda is speaking pleasantly to a graceful little creature in a red jacket and a new brown petticoat. Why, it is Gretel! What a difference those pretty shoes make, and the skirt, and the new cap!

Twenty girls are formed in a line. The music has ceased.

A man, whom we shall call The Crier, stands between the columns and the first judges' stand. He reads the rules in a loud voice:

"The girls and boys are to race in turn, until one girl and one boy have beaten twice. They are to start in a line from the united column - skate to the flagstaff line, turn, and then come back to the starting point; thus making a mile at each run."

A flag is waved from the judges' stand. Madame van Gleck rises in her pavilion. She leans forward with a white handkerchief in her hand. When she drops it, a bugler is to give the signal for them to start.

The handkerchief is fluttering to the ground. Hark !

They are off.

No. Back again. Their line was not true in passing the judges' stand.

The signal is repeated.

Off again. No mistake this time* Whew! how fast they go!

The multitude is quiet for an instant, absorbed in eager, breathless watching.

Cheers spring up along the line of spectators. Huzza! five girls are ahead. Who comes flying back from the boundary mark? We cannot tell. Something red, that is all. There is a blue spot flitting near it, and a dash of yellow nearer* still. Spectators at this end of the line strain their eyes and wish they had taken their post nearer the flagstaff.

The wave of cheers is coming back again. Now we can see! Katrinka waves her hand to her mother as she passes. Two others are close now, whizzing on like arrows. What is that flash of red and gray? Hurrah, it is Gretel! She, too, waves her hand, but toward no gay pavilion. The crowd is cheering, but she hears only her father's voice, "Well done, little Gretel!" Soon Katrinka, with a quick, merry laugh, shoots past Hilda. The girl in yellow is gaining now. She passes them all, all except Gretel. The judges lean forward without seeming to lift their eyes from their watches. Cheer after cheer fills the air; the very columns seem rocking. Gretel has passed them. She has won.

"GRETEL BRINKER - ONE MILE !" - shouts the crier.

The judges nod. They write something upon a tablet which each holds in his hand.

While the girls are resting - some crowding eagerly around our frightened little Gretel, some standing asid6 in high disdain - the boys form in a line.

Mynheer van Gleck drops the handkerchief this time. The buglers give a vigorous blast!

The boys have started.

Half way already! Did ever you see the like!

Three hundred legs flash by in an instant. But there are only twenty boys. No matter, there were hundreds of legs, I am sure! Where are they now? There is such a noise, one gets bewildered. What are the people laughing at? Oh, at that fat boy in the rear. See him go! See him! He'll be down in an instant; no, he won't. I wonder if he knows he is all alone; the other boys are nearly at the boundary line. Yes, he knows it. He stops! He wipes his hot face. He takes off his cap and looks about him. Better to give up with a good grace. He has made a hundred friends by that hearty, astonished laugh. Good Jacob Poot!

The fine fellow is already among the spectators gazing as eagerly as the rest.

The cloud of feathery ice flies from the heels of the skaters as they "bring to" and turn at the flagstaffs.

Something black is coming now, one of the boys - it is all we know. The crowd fairly roars. Now they come nearer - we can see the red cap. There's Ben - there's Peter - there's Hans!

Hans is ahead! Young Madame van Gend almost crushes the flowers in her hand; she had been quite sure that her brother Peter would be first. Carl Schummel is next, then her brother Ben, and the youth with the red cap. The others are pressing close. A tall figure darts among them. He passes the red cap, he passes Ben, then Carl. Now it is an even race between him and Hans. Madame van Gend catches her breath.

It is Peter! He is ahead! Hans shoots past him. Gretel gazes with clasped hands - four strokes more will take her brother to the columns.

He is there ! Yes, but so was Carl just a second before. At the last instant, gathering his powers, he has whizzed between them and passed the goal.

"Carl Schummel! one mile !" shouts the crier.

Soon Madame van Gleck rises again. The falling handkerchief starts the bugle; and the bugle, using its voice as a bowstring, shoots off twenty girls like so many arrows.

It is a beautiful sight, but one has not long to look; before we can fairly distinguish them they are far in the distance. This time they are close upon one another; it is hard to say, as they come speeding back from the flagstaff, which will reach the columns first. There are new faces among the foremost - eager, glowing faces, unnoticed before. Katrinka is there, and Hilda, but Gretel and Rychie.are in the rear. Gretel is wavering, but when Rychie passes her, she starts forward afresh. Now they are nearly beside Katrinka. Hilda is still in advance; she is almost "home." She has not faltered since that bugle note sent her flying; like an arrow still she is speeding toward the goal. Cheer after cheer rises in the air.

"Huzza! Huzza!"

The crier's voice is heard again.

"Hilda van Gleck, one mile!"

A loud murmur of approval runs through the crowd. When the flag waves, all is still again.

Once more the bugle blows a terrific blast. It sends off the boys like chaff before the wind - dark chaff, I admit, and in big pieces.

It is whisked around at the flagstaff, driven faster yet by the cheers and shouts along the line. We begin to see what is coming. There are three boys in advance this time, and all abreast. Hans, Peter, and Lambert. Carl soon breaks the ranks, rushing through with a whiff! Fly, Hans; fly, Peter; don't let Carl beat again. Now Hans and Peter are ahead. Hans and Peter, Peter and Hans; which is foremost? We love them both. We scarcely care which is the fleeter.

Hilda, Annie, and Gretel, seated upon the long crimson bench, can remain quiet no longer, but spring to their feet.

"Peter van Holp, one mile!" calls the crier. The same buzz of excitement as before, while the judges take notes, the same throbbing of music through the din - but something is different. A little crowd presses close about some object, near the column. Carl has fallen. He is not hurt, though somewhat stunned. If he were less sullen, he would find more sympathy in these warm young hearts. As it is, they forget him as soon as he is fairly on his feet again.

The girls are to skate their third mile.

How resolute the little maidens look as they stand in a line!

This third mile may decide the race. Still, if neither Gretel nor Hilda win, there is yet a chance among the rest for the Silver Skates.

Each girl feels sure that this time she will accomplish the distance in one-half the time. How they stamp to try their runners, how nervously they examine each strap - how erect they stand at last, every eye upon Madame van Gleck!

The bugle thrills through them again. With quivering eagerness they spring forward, bending, but in perfect balance. Each flashing stroke seems longer than the last.

Now they are skimming off in the distance.

Again the eager straining of eyes - again the shouts and cheering, again the thrill of excitement as, after a few moments, four or five, in advance of the rest, come speeding back, nearer, nearer to the white columns.

Who is first? Not Rychie, Katrinka, Annie, nor Hilda, nor the girl in yellow - but Gretel - Gretel, the fleetest sprite of a girl that ever skated. She was but playing in the earlier race; now she is in earnest, or rather something within her has determined to win. The lithe little form makes no effort; but it cannot stop - not until the goal is passed!

In vain the crier lifts his voice - he cannot be heard. He has no news to tell - it is already ringing through the crowd. Gretel has won the Silver Skates !

Like a bird she has flown over the ice; like a bird she looks about her in a timid, startled way. She longs to dart to the sheltered nook where her father and mother stand. But her brother Hans is beside her - the girls are crowding round. Hilda's kind joyous voice breathes in her ear. From that hour, none will despise her. Goose-girl or not, Gretel stands acknowledged Queen of the Skaters !

With natural pride Hans turns to see if Peter van Holp is witnessing his sister's triumph. Peter is not looking toward them at all. He is kneeling, bending his troubled face low, and working hastily at his skate-strap. Hans is beside him at once.

"Are you in trouble, mynheer?"

"Ah, Hans ! that you? Yes, my fun is over. I tried to tighten my strap - to make a new hole - and this botheration of a knife has cut it nearly in two."

"Mynheer," said Hans, at the same time pulling off a skate - "you must use my strap!"

"Not I, indeed, Hans Blinker," cried Peter, looking up, "though I thank you warmly. Go to your post, my friend; the bugle will sound in a minute."

"Mynheer," pleaded Hans in a husky voice. "You have called me your friend. Take this strap - quick! There is not an instant to lose. I shall not skate this time - indeed, I am out of practice. Mynheer, you must take it" - and Hans, blind and deaf to any remonstrance, slipped his strap into Peter's skate and implored him to put it on.

"Come, Peter!" cried Lambert, from the line, "we are waiting for you."

"For madame's sake," pleaded Hans, "be quick. She is motioning to you to join the racers. There, the skate is almost on; quick, mynheer, fasten it. I could not possibly win. The race lies between Carl and yourself."

"You are a noble fellow, Hans !" cried Peter, yielding at last. He sprang to his post just as the white handkerchief fell to the ground. The bugle sends forth its blast, loud, clear, and ringing.

Off go the boys! See them! They are winged Mercuries, every one of them. First one and then another is ahead. Now they reach the flagstaffs!

The chase turns in a cloud of mist. It is coming this way. Who is leading now? Mercury himself. It is Peter, Peter van Holp; fly, Peter - Hans is watching you. He is sending all his fleetness, all his strength, into your feet. Your mother and sister are pale with eagerness. Fly, Peter! the crowd has not gone crazy, it is only cheering. The pursuers are close upon you! Touch the white column!

Huzza ! Huzza! Peter has won the Silver Skates!

"Peter van Holp!" shouted the crier. But who heard him? "Peter van Holp!" shouted a hundred voices, for he was the favorite boy of the place. Huzza! Huzza!

Now the music was resolved to be heard. It struck up a lively air, then a tremendous march. The spectators, thinking something new was about to happen, listened and looked.

The racers formed in a single file. Peter, being tallest, stood first. Gretel, the smallest of all, took her place at the end. Hans, who had borrowed a strap from the cake-boy, was near the head.

Three gayly twined arches were placed at intervals upon the river facing the Van Gleck pavilion.

Skating slowly, and in perfect time to the music, the boys and girls moved forward, led on by Peter. It was beautiful to see the bright procession glide along like a living creature. It curved and doubled, and drew its graceful length in and out among the arches - whichever way Peter the head went, the body was sure to follow. Sometimes it steered direct for the centre arch, then, as if seized with a new impulse, turned away and curled itself about the first one; then unwound slowly and, bending low, with quick, snakelike curvings, crossed the river, passing at length through the farthest arch.

When the music was slow, the procession seemed to crawl like a thing afraid; it grew livelier, and the creature darted forward with a spring, gliding rapidly among the arches, in and out, curling, twisting, turning, never losing form until, at the shrill call of the bugle rising above the music, it suddenly resolved itself into boys and girls standing in double semicircle before Madame van deck's pavilion.

Peter and Gretel stand in the centre in advance of the others. Madame van Gleck rises majesticajly. Gretel trembles, but feels that she must look at the beautiful lady. She cannot hear what is said, there is such a buzzing all around her. She is thinking that she ought to try to make a courtesy, such as her mother makes to the meester, when suddenly something so dazzling is placed in her hand that she gives a cry of joy.

Then she ventures to look about her. Peter, too, has something in his hands - "Oh! oh! how splendid!" he cries, and "Oh! how splendid!" is echoed as far as people can see.

Meantime the silver skates flash in the sunshine, throwing dashes of light upon those two happy faces.

Mevrouw van Gend sends a little messenger with her bouquets.

At sight of the flowers the Queen of the Skaters becomes uncontrollable. With a bright stare of gratitude she gathers skates and bouquet in her apron - hugs them to her bosom, and darts off to search for her father and mother in the scattering crowd.

6. Questions On The Story

What does indignant mean? Why was Carl indignant because Hans was going to be in the race?

What were the rules of the race?

How many parts were there in the race? Who won in each?

How were the races started?

Were there one or more judges in a judges' stand? Remember the rules for the use of the apostrophe, and you can tell.

What is a magnet? Why did the writer say that Madame van deck's figure was a magnet to her little daughter?

Why did some of the girls stand around in "high disdain" after the first part of the race?

Do you like Jacob Poot? Why?

What is a bugle? Have you ever heard one? How does the story say that it sent the girls forward? How did it send the boys? Can you see the pictures?

Mynheer is the Dutch word for Mr. or Sir. Why did Hans use this title in speaking to another boy? ' Why did he make Peter take his strap?

Mercury is the same as the Greek God Hermes. He was the messenger of the Gods. Do you remember how he helped Perseus? Why are the boys called "winged Mercuries"?

Can you see "the bright procession glide along like a living creature" after the race? Read the description of it again.

Find the word resolved in two places on page 262. It has different meanings, you see. Can you tell what they are?

Uncontrollable. Un, you know, means not. Con-trol means to rule or guide. What does un-controll-able mean? Why was Gretel not able to control herself? How did she show that she was uncontrollable? Did Madame van Gleck and the others like her less because she did this?

Should you like to know more about Hans, Gretel, Peter, Hilda, Carl, and the rest? Perhaps you can find the book that tells about them. Which one do you like best? Why?

7. Word Studies

1. Find these words in the story and try to express their meaning by other words: graceful.

spectators.

resolute.

ceased.

darts.

speeding.

true.

fleeter.

nook.

multitude.

din.

despise.

2. If there are any words in the story that you should like to have explained, make a list of them.

8. Spelling Lesson

Learn to spell these words, then use them in sentences : coarse.

burgher.

cheer.

course.

gentry.

reach.

column.

eager.

goal.

signal bugle bouquet.

pavilion.

procession.

peasant.

9. A Good Play

Sometime, when you want a good play and it is pleasant out of doors, or you can have a big room to play in, set up some arches and have a procession like the one described. You will need some music, and you should read the description again very carefully.