and well-dressed boy, whose appearance speaks of wealth, indulgence, and ease.  His sled is appropriately named the “Pet;” but in gliding down the icy track it strikes a tree, and its pampered owner is sent sprawling upon his back, in a very undignified way, while his “Pet” gives him the slip and soon finds the bottom of the hill.  Poor fellow! we wonder if this is an omen of what is to befall him in sliding down the hill of life.  And here comes the “Clipper” itself, with our Ralph seated proudly upon it, and apparently enjoying the fleet and beautiful sled as much as though it were really his own.  And there, too, comes George, with his pretty “Snow Flake;” and close behind him are the “Tempest,” and the “Yankee Doodle,” and the “Screamer,” and the “Snow ball,” and the “Nelly,” and the “Racer,” and a host of other craft, of every imaginable appearance, and strided by all sorts of boys.

Ralph and George spent an hour or two upon the Common.  Nothing occurred to mar their pleasure till just before they started for home, when Ralph met with an adventure that sadly ruffled his temper.  He was descending the hill upon his sled, when another craft, having two boys upon it larger than himself, managed to run into him.  The “Clipper” being lightly loaded, the other sled descended with greater impetus; and the force of the collision, together with a vigorous kick from the stout boots of one of the boys, overturned Ralph upon the steepest part of the hill.  He quickly picked himself up, and, forgetful of self, his first care was to see whether Oscar’s sled had sustained any damage.  When he beheld the marks of the rough encounter, in the form of sundry ugly scratches upon the polished sides of the “Clipper,” the tears came in his eyes; and it was some time before he noticed that he himself bore upon his hands and knees several unmistakable tokens of the collision.

Ralph knew very well that the collision was not accidental.  The kick of the boy who guided the sled, and the hearty laugh of both its occupants, when Ralph was overturned, satisfied him that he had been run down purposely.  He did not know the names of the boys, having only met them occasionally on the Common.  They soon came along again, on their way up the hill, and Ralph asked the owner of the sled why he run him down.

“Because you got in our way,” replied the boy.

“No, I did n’t,” said Ralph; “there was room enough for you to go by, but you steered out of your course, and gave my sled a kick, too.”

“Don’t you tell me I lie, you little snipper-snapper,” answered the boy “or I ’ll put you in my pocket, and carry you off.”

“See what you did,” continued Ralph, pointing to the scratches on the “Clipper;” “I should n’t care anything about it, but the sled is n’t mine.  I borrowed it of my brother, and it had n’t a scratch on it when I took it.”

“Pooh,” said the other boy, “that does n’t hurt it any.  I ’ll be bound it will be scratched worse than that, before the winter ’s over.  If you get in my way with it again, I shall serve it worse than I did this time.”