human
I came out here just to see what this ice rot is all about. I suppose you did the same? One has to put up with something to learn, and we’re paying our footing. Mine’s pretty dicky on anything but good honest skates; but it’s no good skating here in the ’village pond champion’ style. I tried skis and resigned. It makes a fellow feel an awful fool to have one of his legs round his neck and the other at the bottom of a crevasse. All right at twenty-one, perhaps; but I’m no chicken, and I don’t like to make a fool of myself for nothing. If you skate, we might have some good times here—and we can always go down the Vermala run in the afternoon—or at night if you like. I call it top notch at night, and you’ll do the same, I hope. Just look at the old Weisshorn—looks like a Chinese god on a fancy ottoman, doesn’t he? We can’t beat that in Yorkshire, can we? Well, I’m glad you’re a neighbour, anyway, and we must find out all the people we know. Do you hunt, by the way?—I’ve got twenty nags at home, and what they’re doin’ Heaven only knows. Eatin’ their heads off, I suppose.