but how would you like your hay washed away,
and your corn beaten down, and your fruit all spoilt? Those are things
that are constantly happening to John Backhouse, I expect, in the rainy
country."

"Yes, and it won't always be summer," said Milly, considering. "I don't
think I should like to stay in that little weeny house all the winter.
Is it very cold here in the winter, Aunt Emma?"

"Not very, generally. But last winter was very cold here, and the snow
lay on the ground for weeks and weeks. On Christmas eve, do you know,
Milly, I wanted to have a children's party in my kitchen, and what do
you think I did? The snow was lying deep on the roads, so I sent out two
sledges."

"What are sledges?" asked Olly.

"Carriages with the wheels taken off and two long pieces of wood
fastened on instead, so that they slip along smoothly over the snow. And
my old coachman drove one and my gardener the other, and they went round
all the farmhouses near by, and gathered up the children, little and
big, into the sledges, till the coachman had got eight in his sledge,
and the gardener had got nine in his, and then they came trotting back
with the bells round the horses' necks jingling and clattering, and two
such merry loads of rosy-faced children. I wish you had been there; I
gave them tea in the kitchen, and afterward we had a Christmas tree in
the drawing-room."

"Oh what fun," said Milly. "Why didn't you ask us too, Aunt Emma? We
could have come quite well in the train, you know. But how did the
children get home?"

"We covered them up warm with rugs and blankets, and sent them back in
the sledges. And they looked so happy with their toys and buns cuddled
up in their arms, that it did one's heart good to see them."

"Mind you ask us next time, Aunt Emma," said Milly, hanging round her
neck coaxingly.

"Mind you get two pairs of wings by that time, then," said Aunt Emma,
"for mother's not likely to let you come to my Christmas tree unless you
promise to fly there and back. But suppose, instead of your coming to
me, I come to you next Christmas?"

"Oh yes! yes!" cried Olly, who had just joined Aunt Emma and Milly,
"come to our Christmas tree, Aunt Emma. We'll give you ever such nice
things--a ball and a top, and a train--perhaps--and--"

"As if Aunt Emma would care for those kind of things!" said Milly. "No,
you shall give her some muffetees, you know, to keep her hands warm, and
I'll make her a needlebook. But, Aunt Em