"That's it," said Daddy Blake, smiling.

"And if we don't happen to see the red rag fluttering, we will hear the bell ring," added Mab, clapping her hands. "How nice it is to fish this way!"

The hooks were soon baited, and lowered into the water through the holes in the ice Then the other end of each fish line was made fast to a wire sticking up, with its bit of red rag, and the little bra.s.s bell.

"Now we'll go skating," said Daddy Blake. "The fish themselves will tell us when they are caught. Come along."

Hal and Mab had, by this time, learned to put on their own skates, though of course Hal helped his sister with the straps.

"You must begin to learn to skate by yourselves," said Daddy Blake, after he had held the hands of the children for a time. "Don't be afraid, strike out for yourselves."

"But s'pose we fall?" asked Mab.

"That won't hurt you very much," her father said. "Be careful, of course, not to double your legs up under you, and when you tumble don't hit your head on your own skates, or any one's else. But when you feel that you are going to fall, just let yourself go naturally.

If you strain, and try not to fall, you may sprain and hurt yourself more than if you fall easily. Now strike out!"

Hal and Mab tried it. At first they were timid, and only took little strokes, but, after a while, they grew bolder, and did very well. They were really learning to skate.

"Oh, look!" suddenly cried Hal. "My red rag is bobbing; I must have a bite!"

He started in such a hurry toward the ice-hole where his line was set that he fell down. But he did not mind that, and was soon up again.

However, Mab, who did not stumble, teached her line first.

"Oh dear! I haven't a bite!" she sighed, for her bell was not jingling.

"But I have!" cried Hal, pulling his line in. "A big one, too!"

"I'll help you," said Daddy Blake, as he skated up to his little son, and when Daddy had felt of the tugging line he remarked:

"Yes, that is a large fish! Up he comes!" And he pulled up Hal's fish.

Just as the big, flopping pickerel was hauled out on the ice, Mab cried:

"My bell is tinkling! My bell is tinkling! I've got a fish, too!" And indeed her piece of wire was moving to and fro where it was stuck up in the ice, and the bell was jingling merrily.

"Wait, Mab, I'll help you!" called Daddy Blake, and, leaving Hal to take care of his own fish, the children's papa went to pull in Mab's catch.

Her fish was not quite as large as was Hal's, but it was a very nice one. Then Mr. Blake called out:

"Oh ho! Now there's a bite on my line!"

His bell jingled quite loudly, and when the string was pulled up through the hole there was a fine, large pickerel on the hook. The fish were placed in a basket to be taken home, after having been mercifully put out of pain by a blow on the head. Then the hooks were baited again.

In a little while each one had caught another fish and then Daddy Blake said:

"Now we have all the fish we can use, so there is no need of catching any more. We will practice our skating a little longer, and then go home. For I am sure you children must be cold."

"Oh, but aren't we going to eat the lunch we brought, before we go home?" cried Hal.

"I was just wondering if you would think of that!" laughed Daddy Blake. "Yes, we will eat lunch as soon as we get a little warm by skating around, or by running."

CHAPTER VIII

THE SKATING RACE

Daddy Blake and the two children glided to and fro over the ice of the frozen lake on their sharp steel skates. Soon all their cheeks were red and rosy, and they felt as warm inside as though they had taken some hot chocolate at the corner drug store.

"Daddy," asked Hal, "what makes you warm when you run fast, or skate?"

"It is because your heart pumps so much more blood up inside your body," explained Daddy Blake. "Our blood is just the same to our bodies as coal is to a steam engine. The more coal the fireman puts under the boiler (that is if it all burn well, and there is a good draft) the hotter the fire is, and the more steam there is made."

"Is our blood like steam?" asked Mab, as she tried to peep down at her red nose and cheeks. But she could not see them very well so she looked at Hal's.

"Well, our blood is something like steam," said Daddy Blake, with a laugh. "That is if we didn't have any blood we could not move around, and live and breathe, any more than an engine could move if it had no steam.

"You see we eat food, which is fuel, or, just what coal and wood are to an engine. The food is changed into blood inside our bodies, and our heart pumps this blood through our arteries, which are like steam pipes. Our heart is really a pump, you know; a very wonderful pump."

"My heart is pumping hard," said Hal, putting his hand over his thumping chest.

"Well," went on his father, "the reason for that is, that when we run, or skate fast, our body uses more blood, just as an engine which is going fast uses more steam than one going slowly. The heart has to pump faster to send more blood to our arms and legs, and all over, and whenever anything goes fast, it is warmer than when it goes slowly.

"If you rub your finger slowly over the window-pane, your finger will _not_ be very warm, but if you rub it back and forth as _fast_ as you can, your finger-tip will soon be almost warm enough to burn you.

"That is something like what happens when you run quickly. The blood goes through your body so much faster, and your heart beats so much harder, trying to keep up, that you are soon warm. And it is a good thing to exercise that way, for it makes the blood move faster, and thus by using up the old blood, you make room for new, and fresh.

"But I guess we've had enough talk about our hearts now," spoke Daddy Blake with a laugh. "We'll eat some lunch and then take home our fish."

Daddy Blake built a little fire on the sh.o.r.e, near the frozen lake, and over this blaze, when the flames were leaping up, and cracking, he heated the chocolate he had brought. Then it was poured out into cups, and nice chicken sandwiches were pa.s.sed on little wooden plates.

"Isn't this fun!" cried Mab as she sipped the last of her chocolate.

"Indeed it is," agreed Hal. "I'm coming skating over to this lake every day!"

"Well, I guess not every day," spoke Daddy Blake with a smile. "But we'll come as often as we can, for I want you to learn to be good skaters. And besides, there may be snow soon, and that will spoil the ice for us."

"Oh, I hope it doesn't snow for a long time," sighed Mab.

"So do I!" echoed her brother. "But, if it does, we can have some other fun. Daddy will take us coasting; won't you?"

"I guess so," answered Mr. Blake.

The lunch things were packed in the basket, and then Hal and Mab went back to where the pickerel fish they had caught were left lying on the ice.

"Why, they're frozen stiff!" Hal cried, as he picked up one fish, which was like a stick of wood.