d as a lump of ice?"
"He said he threw a little snow at you playfully and you sprang upon him like a tiger."
"There's a little mistake in that," said Phil. "The snow-ball was hard enough to stun me if it had hit me a little higher. I wouldn't be hit like that again for ten dollars."
"That ain't so! Don't believe him, mother!" said Jonas from the sofa.
"And what did you do?" demanded Mrs. Brent with a frown.
"I laid him down on the snow and washed his face with soft snow."
"You might have given him his death of cold," said Mrs. Brent, with evident hostility. "I am not sure but the poor boy will have pneumonia now, in consequence of your brutal treatment."
"And you have nothing to say as to his attack upon me?" said Phil indignantly.
"I have no doubt you have very much exaggerated it."
"Yes, he has," chimed in Jonas from the sofa.
Phil regarded his step-brother with scorn.
"Can't you tell the truth now and then, Jonas?" he asked contem