so that the two small boys
had all the exhilaration of tearing along at a racing gait.

"This is great!" cried Bobby. "What else did you get?"

"Yes, and there's a two-wheeled cart for summer," said Johnny; "and when
you slide the seat forward a little and let down the back, it makes
another seat. I'll show you when we go back."

Shortly they decided to do this. Johnny attempted to turn in his tracks,
as he had seen cutters do on the Avenue. But here the snow was not
packed flat, as it is on the thoroughfare, so that when the twisting was
applied one runner promptly left earth, and the whole sleigh canted
dangerously. A moment later, however, in response to the frantic
counterbalancing of two frightened small boys and the sensible coming to
a halt of the fuzzy pony, it sank back to solidity.

"Gee!" breathed Johnny, wide-eyed, "That was a close squeak!"

They turned more cautiously, and in a wide circle, and jingled away
toward home. It might be mentioned that the bells were not strung as a
belt to encircle the pony, but were attached below to the underside of
the thills in such a manner as to contribute chimes.

"What's his name?" asked Bobby, referring to the pony.

"He hasn't any. I got to name him."

"I knew a very nice horse once. His name was Bucephalus," remarked Bobby
tentatively.

"I tell you!" cried Johnny, who had not been listening. "I'll name him
Bobby, after you!"

"Oh!" cried that young man. "Will you?" He gazed at the pony with new
respect.

"It'll mix things up a little, though, won't it?" reflected Johnny. "I
tell you. We'll call him Bobby Junior. How's that?"

"That's fine!" agreed Bobby gravely.

In the dead cold air of the Englishes' barn, which was situated in an
alley-way, the block above their house, Bobby and Johnny examined the
cart, admired its glossy newness, and, under the coachman's
instructions, experimented with the sliding seat. They took a peek
through the folding door into the stable where stood the haughty horses.
These, still chewing, slightly turned their heads and rolled their fine
eyes back at the intruders, then, with a high-headed indifference,
returned to their hay. After this the boys scuttled into the small,
overheated "office" with its smell of leather and tobacco and harness
soap; with its coloured prints of horses, and its shining harness behind
the glass doors; with its cushioned wooden armchairs, its sawdust box
and its round hot stove with the soap-stone