But in Canada winter is long and extremely cold. With the fall of the beautiful tinted leaves that have changed from green to wonderful shades of red, purple, and yellow, Canadians know that summer is gone and that frost and snow may come any day, and once come will stay, though an unwelcome guest, for at least seven or eight months.
Now the young folks in Barrie relished this long spell of cold--to them no part of the year was quite so delightful as winter. What could compare with a long sleigh drive over firm thick snow, tucked in with soft warm furs and muffled up to the eyes--or tobogganing in the moonlight down a long hill--or skimming over clear, smooth ice--or candy-making parties--or dances, or a dozen other delights? What indeed? On every occasion Gladys seemed to be the centre figure; she was the life and soul of every party.
She was an only child of wealthy parents. Her home was beautiful, her father indulgent, her mother like a sister to her; she was a favourite everywhere, loved alike by rich and poor. Together with two intimate friends and schoolfellows, the girls were commonly known as the "Buds," and they, with half a dozen boys, were called the "Bunch" throughout the town. They admitted no outsider to their circle. They danced together at parties, boated, picniced, skated, sometimes worked together. There was an invisible bond that drew the group near each other, a feeling of sympathy and good fellowship, for the "Bunch" was simply a whole-hearted, happy crowd of boys and girls about sixteen to nineteen years of age.
Winter was at its height. Christmas with all its joys was past, church decorations had surpassed the usual standard of beauty, holidays were in full swing, and the "Buds" were in great demand. The cold had for five weeks been intense, and the barometer on the last day of January sank to fifteen below zero. Snow had fallen but little, and the ring of merry, tinkling sleigh bells was almost an unknown sound. Tobogganing of course was impossible. But as Gladys philosophically remarked one day, "Where could you find such skating as in Barrie?"
Great excitement prevailed when the moon was full, for the lake, some nine miles in length, was frozen from end to end, with an average thickness of three feet, and to the delight of skaters, was entirely snow free. Of course parties were the order of the day. Such a chance to command a magnificent icefield might not occur again for a long, long time.