"That shows you how cold it is," said Mr. Blake. "But mamma can thaw out the fish by putting them in water, and we can have them for dinner to-morrow."

"When are we coming skating again?" asked Hal as they were on their way home.

"Oh, in a few days," his father promised. "Meanwhile you and Mab can practice on the pond near home, and then you can have a race."

"Oh, good!" cried Mab. "And I'll win!"

"Huh! I guess not!" exclaimed Hal. "Boys always win races; don't they, Daddy."

"Well, not always," said Mr. Blake. "And Mab is becoming a good little skater."

"Well, I'll win!" declared Hal. "You see if I don't!"

The next day was too cold for the children to go skating with their Daddy, but a little later in the week it was warmer, and one afternoon, coming home early from the office Mr. Blake said:

"Come on now. I hear you two youngsters have been practicing skating on the pond, so we'll go over there and have a race."

"Hurray!" cried Hal.

"Oh, I do hope I win!" exclaimed Mab.

There were not many other skaters on the ice when the children and their father reached it Mr. Blake marked off a place, by drawing two lines on the ice with his skate. The s.p.a.ce between them was about as long as from the Blake's front gate to their back fence.

"Now, Hal and Mab," said Daddy Blake, "take your places on this first line. And when I call 'Go!' start off. The one who reaches the other line first will win."

Hal and Mab took their places. They were so eager to start that they stepped over the line, before it was time.

"Go back," said Daddy Blake, smiling. Finally they were both evenly on the line. The other skaters came up to watch.

"Go!" suddenly cried Daddy Blake.

CHAPTER IX

A WINTER PIC-NIC

Hal and Mab started off on their race so evenly that neither one was ahead of the other. The two children had learned to skate farily well by this time, though of course they could not go very far, nor very fast. And they could not cut any "fancy figures" on the ice such as doing the "grape-vine twist," or others like that.

"I--I--I think I'm going to win," said Mab as she skated along beside her brother.

"You'd better--better not talk," Hal panted. "That takes your breath, and it's hard enough to breathe anyhow, when you're skating fast, without talking."

"You're talking," said Mab.

"But I'm not going to talk any more," Hal answered, and he closed his lips tightly.

On and on they skated, side by side.

"Oh, Hal's going to win!" cried some of the children who had gathered around to watch.

"No, Mab is!" shouted a number of little girls who were her friends.

"Mab will win!"

Sometimes Mab would be in the lead, and then Hal would come up with a rush and pa.s.s her.

It was not very far to the "finish line," as the end of the race is called.

"Oh, I do hope I get there first!" thought Mab, her little heart beating very fast.

"I hope I win!" thought Hal.

And that is always the way it is in races--each one wants to be first.

That is very right and proper, for it is a good thing to try and be first, or best, in everything we do. Only we must do it fairly, and not be mean, or try to get in the way of anyone else. And, if we don't win, after we have done our best, why we must try and be cheerful about it. And never forget to say to the one who has come out ahead:

"Well, I am sorry I lost, but I am glad you won."

That is being polite, or, as the big folks say; when they have races, that is being "sportsman-like," and that that is the finest thing in the world--to be really "sportsman-like" at all times.

"Go on! Go on!" cried Daddy Blake. "Don't stop, children! Finish out the race!"

But Hal and Mab were getting a little tired now, though the race was such a short one. Gradually Hal was skating ahead.

"Oh dear! He's going to win!" thought Mab, but, just then, all of a sudden, Hal's skate glided over a twig on the ice, and down he went.

"Ker-bunk-o!"

Before Mab could stop herself she had slid over the finish line.

"Oh, Mab wins! Mab has won the race!" cried her girl friends.

Poor Hal, who was not much hurt, I am glad to say, got up. He looked sorrowfully at his sister who had gone ahead of him, when he stumbled.

He did want so much to win!

But Mab was a real "sportswoman," for there are such you know--even little girls.

"Hal, I didn't win!" she exclaimed, skating back to her brother, "It isn't a fair race when some one falls; is it Daddy?"

"Well, perhaps in a real big race they would count it, even if some of the skaters fell," he said. "But this time you need not count--"

"Well, I'm not going to count this!" interrupted Mab. "I don't want to win the race that way. Come on, Hal. We won't count this, and we'll race over again!"

Now I call that real good of Mab. Don't you?

Hal looked happy again. He didn't even mind the bruise on his knee, where it had hit on the ice.

"Well, I'd be glad to race over again," Hal said. "Next time I won't fall."