Skating
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By Dan BeardSmall feet have tested the strength of the ice morning after morning, until at last the boys hail each other with the joyous cry of "The ice will bear! " Old skates come rattling down from their perch on the top shelves of the closets, the dust is wiped off, and the sharpness of their runners tested by boyish fingers. What a thrill used to run through the scholars in the little frame "Academy" at my "old Kentucky home," when some boy announced, "Licking will bear!" Which, being translated, meant that the muddy stream called the Licking River had frozen over and that the ice was thick enough to bear the weight of a boy. When at last the Saturday holiday arrived, with what feverish baste we ate our breakfast, even begrudging the time taken to consume our food. Ah, those were glorious days! In imagination now I can hear the musical notes made by the vibrating ice under the weight of a crowd of merry boys as with glad shouts we glided over the glassy surface of the river. Sometimes even the conservative and busy Ohio River would suspend all business and close its doors of ice. At such times the flat boats, barges, and steamboats would lie helpless and idle along the shores, their only use being that of a resting-place and shelter for skating parties. I then thought that when a person reached an age when he no longer cared to skate, it was time for him to die. This opinion, like many others of my boyhood, is being gradually modified. Little DangerWhile we older fellows look on the reader may stand on one foot and flinging out his other spin like a top. And if he falls little harm is done; his bones are not brittle and his body is light.
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Last modified: October 15, 2016.