"So it is; but I _must_ do it a few times, or Joe will plague me and
spoil my fun to-night," answered Jill, shaking her skirts and
rubbing her blue hands, wet and cold with the snow.

"Here, put these on; I never use them. Keep them if they fit; I only
carry them to please mother." And Jack pulled out a pair of red
mittens with the air of a boy used to giving away.

"They are lovely warm, and they do fit. Must be too small for your
paws, so I'll knit you a new pair for Christmas, and make you wear
them, too," said Jill, putting on the mittens with a nod of thanks,
and ending her speech with a stamp of her rubber boots to enforce
her threat.

Jack laughed, and up they trudged to the spot whence the three
coasts diverged.

"Now, which will you have?" he asked, with a warning look in the
honest blue eyes which often unconsciously controlled naughty Jill
against her will.

"That one!" and the red mitten pointed firmly to the perilous path
just tried.

"You will do it?"

"I will!"

"Come on, then, and hold tight."