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CHAPTER IX A WINTER PIC-NIC

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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 pass 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."

"very well, race over once more," said daddy blake.

so hal and mab did, and this time, after some hard skating, hal crossed the finish line a little ahead of his sister. poor mab tried not to look sad but she could not help it.

"you—you won the race, hal," she said.

"well, maybe i got started a little ahead of you," he replied kindly. "anyhow, i'm older and of course i'm stronger. oughtn't i give her a head-start, daddy?"

"i think it would be more fair, perhaps," said daddy blake with a smile. he was glad his children were so thoughtful.

"then let's race again," suggested hal.

"oh, hurrah!" cried all the other children. "another race! that's three!"

this time hal let mab start off a little ahead of him, when mr. blake called "go!" this "head-start," as we used to call it when i was a boy, is called a "handicap" by the big folk, but you don't need to use that big word, unless you care to.

"oh, mab is going to win! mab is going to win!" shouted the children. and she did. she crossed the line ahead of hal. and oh! how glad she was.

"now we've each won a race!" cried hal, as he helped his sister take off her skates.

a few days after that daddy blake asked the children:

"how would you like to go on a winter picnic?"

"a winter pic-nic!" cried hal. "what is that?"

"why we'll take our skates, and a basket of lunch, and go over to the big lake. we'll have a long skate, and at noon we'll eat our lunch in a log cabin i know of on the shores of the lake. that will be our winter pic-nic."

"oh, how fine!" cried mab. "when may we go?"

"to-morrow," answered daddy blake.

"oh, i'm sure something will happen!" cried aunt lolly.

and something did, but it was something nice, and soon you will know all about it.

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