"Oh, there comes my skate off again! Freddie, have you got any paste in your pocket?" "Paste, Flossie! What good would paste be to fasten on your skate?" "I don't know, but it might do some good. I can't make the strap hold it on any more," and a plump little girl shook back her flaxen, curling hair, which had slipped from under her cap and was blowing into her eyes, sat down on a log near the shore of the frozen lake and looked sorrowfully at the shining skate which had become loosened from her shoe. "Come on, Flossie!" called the small, plump boy, just about the size of his sister, and with her same kind of light hair and blue eyes. "There go Bert, Nan and Tommy Todd 'way ahead of us. We'll never catch up to 'em if you sit here. Come on!"