Frost, hard, sharp, crisp, and unmistakable; do you like it? It is very unpleasant when you get up of a morning; the water is so cold. And then going to school shivering, and being put on to construe1 when you have the hot ache in your fingers, is trying to the patience, especially if one is inclined to self-indulgence, and is aided and abetted2 when at home by one’s mother.
But everything has its compensations. Without work play would become a bore; if there were no hunger and thirst there would be no pleasure in eating and drinking; even illness is followed by convalescence3, with story-books to read instead of lessons, and licence to lie in bed as long as you like, and so there is the delight, in very cold weather, of getting warm again; and there is also skating. Whether we like it or not we have to put up with it when it comes, and it came that year at an unusual time, before the end of November. We often indeed have just a touch at that period, three days about, and then sleet4 and rain; but this was a regular good one, thermometer at nineteen Fahrenheit5, no wind, no snow, and the gravel6-pits bearing. The gravel-pits were so called because there was no gravel there. There had been, but it was dug out, and carted away before the memory of the oldest inhabitant, and the cavities were filled with water. There were quite three acres of available surface altogether, and not farther than a mile from Weston; but “Ars longa, vita brevis est;” the art of cutting figures is long, and the period of practice short indeed. Considering the price spent on skates in England, and the few opportunities of putting them on, it seems barbarous of masters not to give whole holidays when the ice does bear. But then what would parents and guardians7 say? A boy cannot skate himself into the smallest public appointment, and the rule of three is of much more importance to his future prospects8 than the cutting of that figure. The Westonians made the most they could of their opportunity, however, and whenever they had an hour to spare the gravel-pits swarmed9 with them. Their natural tendency was to rapid running, racing10, and hockey; but Leblanc, who was born in Canada, where his father held an appointment, and who had worn skates almost as soon as he had shoes, did such wonderful things as set a large number of them practising figure skating. Buller was bitten by the mania11; he had never tried anything before but simple straightforward12 running on the flat of the skate with bent13 knees, so he had a great deal to learn; but with his usual persistency14, when he once took anything in hand he did not regard the difficulties, and only dreaded15 lest he should not have sufficient opportunity of practising. He began, of course, by endeavouring to master the outside edge, which is the grammar of figure skating, and watched Leblanc, but could make nothing out of that, for Leblanc seemed to move by volition16, as some birds appear to skim along without any motion of the wings. He could not give hints, or show how anything was done, because he could not understand where any difficulty lay. It was like simple walking to him; you get up and walk, you could not show any one exactly how to walk.
But there were two or three other fair skaters from whom more could be learned; Penryhn, for example, was a very decent performer of simple figures. He came from a northern county, where there was yearly opportunity of practice, and had been taught by his father, who was an excellent skater.
“The first great thing you must always bear in mind,” said he, “is that the leg upon which you stand, while on the outside edge, must be kept straight and stiff, with the knee rigidly17 braced18. You see some fellows there practising by crossing the legs; while they are on one leg they bring the other in front, and across it, before they put it down on the ice. This certainly forces you to get on to the outside edge, but it twists the body into a wrong position—one in which the all-important thing in skating, balance, cannot be acquired. Besides, it gets you into a way of bringing the foot off the ground to the front, whereas it ought always to be a little behind the one you are skating on, and it takes as long to get out of that habit as to learn the outside edge altogether pretty well. Why, here is Old Algebra19 positively20 with a pair of skates on!”
“Old Algebra,” as a mathematical genius, whose real name was Smith, was called, skated very well too.
“Look here, Algebra,” cried Penryhn, “I am trying to show Buller how to do the outside edge; can’t you give him a scientific wrinkle?”
“The reason why you find an initial difficulty in the matter,” said Algebra gravely, adjusting his spectacles, “is that you naturally suppose that if you bend so far out of the perpendicular21, the laws of gravity must cause you to fall. But that is because you omit the centrifugal force from your consideration; remember what centrifugal force is, Buller, and it will give you confidence.”
“Oh, I have confidence enough!” said Buller; “it’s the power of getting on to the edge without overbalancing myself that I want, and all that rot about the laws of gravity won’t help me.”
“I fancied they wouldn’t, but Penryhn asked for a scientific wrinkle. If you want a practical one, keep the head and body erect22, never looking down at the ice; when you strike out with the right foot, look over the right shoulder; body and foot are sure to follow the eye, and clasp your hands behind you, or keep them at your sides; do anything but sway them about. That’s it, you got on to the outside edge then; now boldly with the left foot, and look over the left shoulder. Never mind (Buller had come a cropper); you fell then because you did not let yourself go, but when your skate took the outside edge you tried to recover. You lacked confidence, in short, in the centrifugal force, and bothered yourself, instinctively23, without knowing it, with the laws of gravity. Try again; you stick to that. Rigidity24. Right foot—look over right shoulder, not too far, just a turn of the head. Left foot—look over left shoulder. There, you did not fall then. Trust to the centrifugal force, that’s the thing,” and he swept away with a long easy roll.
“A capital coach he would make,” said Penryhn, admiringly. “He always tells you just what you want to know without bothering.”
“Yes,” said Buller, “I have asked him things in lessons once or twice, and he made it all as clear as possible, but I didn’t know he was good for anything else. This is a grand idea for learning to skate, though; look here, this is all right, is it not?”
“Yes, you have got it now; lean outwards25 a little more, and don’t bend forward. The weight should be on the centre of the foot.”
There are few sensations more delightful26 than the first confident sweep on the outside edge, with the blade biting well into the clear smooth ice, and Buller felt as if he could never have enough of it, and he kept on, trying to make larger and larger segments of a circle, not heeding27 the falls he got for the next half-hour, when it was time to be getting back, and he had reluctantly to take his skates off, and jog home at a trot28. The next chance he had he was back to the ice and at it again.
Others who had got as far as he had began practising threes, or trying to skate backwards29, but not so Buller. He must have that outside edge perfectly30, and make complete circles on it, without hesitation31 or wobbling, much less falling, before he attempted anything else. Progress did not seem slow to him, he was used to that in everything, and he was surprised at improving as quickly as he did. All he dreaded was a heavy snow-fall, or a breaking up of the frost, and either calamity32 was to be expected from hour to hour. Before going to bed on the night of the third day of the ice bearing, he drew the curtain and looked out of window. The moon was nearly full, there was not a breath of wind stirring to shake the hoar-frost off the trees; all was hard, and bright, and clear. How splendid the pits would be now! How glorious to have the whole sheet of ice to one’s self! why, with such a chance of solitary33 practice he might well expect to cut an eight, for he could already complete entire circles on each foot. If it were not for the bars to his window he would certainly go. The lane below had no building to overlook it; none of the windows of that part of the house where Dr Jolliffe and his family, and the servants slept, commanded the lane. He would have no other house to pass on the way to the gravel-pits;............