"Hurry, Grandpa!" urged Sunny Boy. "Hurry! Maybe there won't be room
for me!"
Grandpa Horton laughed and said he thought there would be room for one
small boy on the pond even if half the town did want to go skating that
afternoon.
"I suppose it is because there is no school," he said, as they turned
in at the Park gates. "I declare, Sunny Boy, if I had thought of it, I
don't know that I would have brought you today!"
For the ice-pond--and by this time they were in sight of it--was
crowded with skaters. Skating in holiday week was too delightful to be
neglected, and it seemed as though all the school children in the city
were skating or learning to skate. There were big boys and little boys
and tall girls and short girls and good skaters and poor ones. Now and
then a long line of skaters, hands joined, swept down the pond,
shouting.
Sunny Boy beamed. He was very glad that he had come and he wanted to
sit down on the grass and put on his skates at once.
"I think we'll walk around to the other end of the pond, dear," said
Grandpa Horton. "There are not so many people there, and I'll be able
to walk out on the ice a little way with you till you learn to keep
your balance. Don't put on your skates till we get to that white post."
Sunny Boy took his grandfather's hand and they tramped around the pond
till they reached a place where there were fewer skaters. A tall
policeman was telling a pretty girl that she could not leave her
sweater on the bank.
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