"Ashes on the clane pavement! Mrs. Smith!"

"Yes, Biddy; and do it at once. There! Somebody else has fallen."

I sprung to the window in time to see a woman on the pavement, and
the contents of her basket of marketing scattered all around her.

"Go this minute and throw ashes over the pavement!" I called to
Biddy in a voice of command.

The girl left the room with evident reluctance. The idea of
scattering ashes over her clean pavement, was, to her, no very
pleasant one.

It seemed to me, as I sat looking down from my windows upon the
slippery flags, and noted the difficulty which pedestrians had to
cross them safely, that Biddy would never appear with her pan of
ashes.

"Why don't the girl do as I directed?" had just passed, in an
impatient tone, from my lips, when two well dressed men came in
view, one at each (sic) exteremtiy of the sheet of ice. They were
approaching, and stepped with evident unconsciousness of danger,
upon the treacherous surface. I had a kind of presentiment that one
or both would fall, and my instinct was not at fault. Suddenly the
heels of one flew up, and he struck the pavement with a concussion
that sprung his hat from his head, and sent it some feet in the air.
In his efforts to recover himself, his legs became entangled in
those of the other, and over he went, backwards, his head striking