Snowflakes and Sunbeams | Page 6

the settlement. He was watching a small speck which moved rapidly over the snow in the direction of the fort.
"It's very like our friend Frank Kennedy," said he to himself (at least we presume so, for there was no one else within earshot to whom he could have said it, except the door-post, which every one knows is proverbially a deaf subject). "No man in the settlement drives so furiously. I shouldn't wonder if he ran against the corner of the new fence now. Ha! just so--there he goes!"
And truly the reckless driver did "go" just at that moment. He came up to the corner of the new fence, where the road took a rather abrupt turn, in a style that insured a capsize. In another second the spirited horse turned sharp round, the sleigh turned sharp over, and the occupant was pitched out at full length, while a black object, that might have been mistaken for his hat, rose from his side like a rocket, and, flying over him, landed on the snow several yards beyond. A faint shout was heard to float on the breeze as this catastrophe occurred, and the driver was seen to jump up and readjust himself in the cariole; while the other black object proved itself not to be a hat, by getting hastily up on a pair of legs, and scrambling back to the seat from which it had been so unceremoniously ejected.
In a few minutes more the cheerful tinkling of the merry sleigh-bells was heard, and Frank Kennedy, accompanied by his hopeful son Charles, dashed up to the gate, and pulled up with a jerk.
"Ha! Grant, my fine fellow, how are you?" exclaimed Mr. Kennedy, senior, as he disengaged himself from the heavy folds of the buffalo robe and shook the snow from his greatcoat. "Why on earth, man, don't you put up a sign-post and a board to warn travellers that you've been running out new fences and changing the road, eh?"
"Why, my good friend," said Mr. Grant, smiling, "the fence and the road are of themselves pretty conclusive proof to most men that the road is changed; and, besides, we don't often have people driving round corners at full gallop; but--"
"Hollo! Charley, you rascal," interrupted Mr. Kennedy--"here, take the mare to the stable, and don't drive her too fast. Mind, now, no going off upon the wrong road for the sake of a drive, you understand."
"All right, father," exclaimed the boy, while a bright smile lit up his features and displayed two rows of white teeth: "I'll be particularly careful," and he sprang into the light vehicle, seized the reins, and with a sharp crack of the whip dashed down the road at a hard gallop.
"He's a fine fellow that son of yours," said Mr. Grant, "and will make a first-rate fur-trader."
"Pur-trader!" exclaimed Mr. Kennedy. "Just look at him! I'll be shot if he isn't thrashing the mare as if she were made of leather." The old man's ire was rising rapidly as he heard the whip crack every now and then, and saw the mare bound madly over the snow. "And see!" he continued, "I declare he has taken the wrong turn after all."
"True," said Mr. Grant: "he'll never reach the stable by that road; he's much more likely to visit the White-horse Plains. But come, friend, it's of no use fretting, Charley will soon tire of his ride; so come with me to my room and have a pipe before dinner."
Old Mr. Kennedy gave a short groan of despair, shook his fist at the form of his retreating son, and accompanied his friend to the house.
It must not be supposed that Frank Kennedy was very deeply offended with his son, although he did shower on him a considerable amount of abuse. On the contrary, he loved him very much. But it was the old man's nature to give way to little bursts of passion on almost every occasion in which his feelings were at all excited. These bursts, however, were like the little puffs that ripple the surface of the sea on a calm summer's day. They were over in a second, and left his good-humoured, rough, candid countenance in unruffled serenity. Charley knew this well, and loved his father tenderly, so that his conscience frequently smote him for raising his anger so often; and he over and over again promised his sister Kate to do his best to refrain from doing anything that was likely to annoy the old man in future. But, alas! Charley's resolves, like those of many other boys, were soon forgotten, and his father's equanimity was upset generally two or three times a day; but after the gust was over, the fur-trader would kiss his son, call him a "rascal," and send him