go and slide downhill," proposed Sue.
"That'll be fun," agreed Helen. So, taking their sleds, the girls went to a little hill not far away, where, meeting Mary Watson and Sadie West, they had good times riding down the snowy slope.
"Well, he doesn't look much like a snow man now," laughed Charlie Star, after many balls had been thrown at the white image.
"No; his face is all gone," Bunny agreed. "What'll we do now?"
"Let's go over on the hill," proposed Charlie. "It's getting so warm that maybe the snow won't last much longer, and we don't want to miss the fun."
"It is getting warmer," Bunny agreed. "The wind's coming from the south," he added as he looked at the weather vane on the barn and saw that it was pointed to the south. "I guess they don't ever have snow down south; do they, Charlie?"
"They don't where my aunt lives," Charlie answered. "She's down in Florida--away down in the end, near Key West. She sends me letters sometimes, and she says they never have snow there. She has all the oranges she wants, too!"
"I'd like to live there!" Bunny said, smacking his lips. "I love oranges. But I'd like a little snow once in a while, wouldn't you, Charlie?"
"Oh, yes! You couldn't have any fun in winter without snow."
"I'd like to see such a place--just once, anyhow," went on Bunny Brown. And he little knew how soon he was to get his desire.
The two boys, having pelted the snow man all they wished, got their sleds and soon joined Sue and the other girls on the hill. There they had races, and coasted down in as many different ways as they could think of. Finally Bunny cried:
"Let's make a bob, Charlie!"
"No, you mustn't do that!" exclaimed Sue.
"Who said so?" demanded Bunny.
"Daddy," Sue answered. "He said I wasn't to make any bobs on the hill."
"Well, he didn't tell me not to," declared her brother.
"I guess he meant you," answered Sue. "You'd better not make a bob, Bunny Brown! You might get hurt!"
Making a bob, it might be explained, meant that two or three boys and sometimes the older girls would lie flat on their sleds. Then one coaster would take hold of the rear of the sled in front of him, and twine his feet around the front runners of the sled behind him. In this way half a dozen boys or girls could lock themselves and their sleds together and go down the hill that way.
There was danger in it because sometimes the hands or legs of some one in the middle would lose their grip, and the "bob" would come apart. Then sleds would crash together, and often the children were hurt. Sue's father had told her never to do this, for he had more than once seen children hurt at this game.
Whether he had told Bunny not to make a bob I do not know. I think if Bunny had been forbidden this fun he would not have taken part in it. But perhaps he forgot.
Anyhow, he and Charlie and some of the other lads stretched out on their sleds, making a bob as I have told you it was done, and down the hill they coasted.
All went well for some distance, and then suddenly Harry Bentley, who was in the middle, lost his hold of Bunny's sled.
"Hold on to me! Hold on to me!" cried Bunny, as he saw that he was slipping sideways.
"I can't!" Harry answered.
A few seconds later the bob came apart, some boys rolling off their sleds and others coasting down backwards or sideways. Bunny went on by himself for some little distance, and then, all of a sudden, the two last boys, who were still locked together, crashed right into the side of Bunny's sled, knocking him off and coasting on right over him!
"Oh! Oh!" cried Sue, who saw what had happened. "Look at Bunny!"
For a moment it seemed that her brother must be severely hurt, but when some of the older boys ran to pick him up, Bunny arose by himself. On his face was a spot of blood.
"Oh, you're hurt!" cried Charlie Star.
Bunny put his hand to his nose. It was bleeding, and at first he was frightened. But he did not cry.
"I--I don't care!" he said bravely. "I've had nose-bleed before. It don't hurt much!"
"Hold some snow on it," advised one boy. "That'll stop the bleeding."
Bunny did this, but as the cold snow hurt worse than the pain of his bumped nose, he soon tossed the red ball away.
"Come on, I'll take you home," said Jack Denson, one of the older boys. "Don't cry, Sue," he said, as Bunny's sister began to whimper. "He's all right."
Jack was very kind, wiping the blood off Bunny's face at times with a handkerchief, so
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