Besides, if I should shovel it all off, there will be an avalanche from the top of the house to-night, that will bury the sidewalk all up again.

The snow is sliding off the roofs, all around here;--have n't you heard it, mother ?" "Yes, I thought I heard it," replied Mrs.Preston; "but if you can't get the snow off the sidewalk, you had better speak to your father about it, when he comes home, and perhaps he will help you, or hire somebody to do it for you.

It must be got off as soon as possible, for the police have notified us to attend to it." In spite of this advice, Oscar neglected to speak to his father in regard to the matter, and no one else happening to think of it, nothing was said about it.

The next morning, he chopped away upon the ice a little while, but getting tired of it, he soon abandoned the job, and went to play.

When Mr.Preston came home to dinner, an unusual cloud was on his brow; and as soon as Oscar came in, the cause was explained.
"Oscar," he said, "why did you not shovel the snow from the sidewalk, as I told you to, yesterday morning ?" "I tried to," replied Oscar; "but it was trodden down so hard, I could n't get it off." "But you should have done it before it got hardened.