THE ICE-KING

N the banks of a wide river there was once a large Indian village. One very cold winter, nearly all of the people died. But at last spring and the warm weather came again; the snows melted from the hills; the ice left the streams and lakes, and all floated down with the freshet except one huge ice-cake, which lodged on the land some distance from the bank. There it stayed for a long time, making the air cold and damp for a great distance about.

At length a stout, determined Indian decided to get rid of the ice-cake. He took a great weapon of iron, and attacked the monster, cry- ing out at every blow, “Come on, freeze me if you can; do your best!”

At every blow the enemy gave way, and was at last, by dint of prying and pushing, tumbled over the bank into the river, and borne away by the current.

“There!” cried the Indian. “Be off with yourself, and never come back to trouble us.”

“Thank you!” cried the Ice-King. “You have done me a great favour. But I will make

you another visit next winter.” 110