o4
A SNOWBALL BATTLE.

 

 

 
  

TVG: E shall have snow before morning, and plenty
vA oh of it,” said old Mr. Gayton, the weather-
Ke

 
   

VAM, prophet of Stoneleigh—and he shook his
gay head dolefully. For he was a martyr to
f rheumatism; and frost, or snow, or wet
meant for him many painful twinges.

Harry Fowler overheard the old man’s remark, and went
dancing down the street in an ecstasy of delight. Turning
a corner sharply, he came into violent collision with Will
Coleman, and upset that young gentleman very literally.
‘Snow to-morrow, my boy!” exclaimed: Harry, helping Will
to his feet, and never troubling to apologise for having
knocked him over. ‘Snow to-morrow—old Mr. Gayton
says so”; and thereupon the boys gave vent to their feelings |
in a whoop that would not have disgraced a Red Indian |
on the war-path. For they knew nothing of rheumatism ;
and frost and snow meant for them the merriest, wildest |
fun imaginable.

“Tt’s bound to come, you know,” said Harry, as soon
as he recovered his breath—‘the snow, I mean!—old Mr.
Gayton is always right about that—and I’ve got a plan.
To-morrow morning you and I will start early for school,
and stand by the wall at the corner of Dr. Mason’s house.
Jim Harris and the twin Butlers are sure to pass that
way, and you and I will give them such a pelting as they
have never had yet.”

“That’s all very fine,” said Will, “but they will be three
to two, and we might get the pelting!”

“Um!” said Harry, “I hadn't thought of that! But”