to Johnny. "What is
your name?"

"Johnny, sir. I live down below your house." He pointed across toward
his own home.

"I know him," said Tommy proudly. "He has got goats and he let me
drive them."

"Yes, he can drive," said Johnny, condescendingly, with a nod, and
Tommy was proud of his praise. His father looked at him.

"Is your sled strong?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. I made it myself," said Johnny, and he gave the sled a good
kick to show how strong it was.

"All right," said Tommy's father. They followed Johnny to the top of
the slide, and Tommy got on in front and his father tucked his coat
in.

"Hold on and don't be afraid," he said.

"Afraid!" said Tommy contemptuously. Just then Johnny, with a whoop
and a push which almost upset Tommy, flung himself on behind and away
they went down the hill, as Johnny said, "just ski-uting."

Tommy had had sledding in his own yard; but he had never before had
any real coasting like this, and he had never dreamed before of
anything like the thrill of dashing down that long hill, flying like
the wind, with Johnny on behind, yelling "Look out!" to every one, and
guiding so that the sled tore in and out among the others, and at the
foot of the hill actually turned around the curve and went far on down
the road.

"You're all right," said Johnny, and Tommy had never felt prouder. His
only regret was that the hill did not tilt up the other way so that
they could coast back instead of having to trudge back on foot.

[Illustration: Tommy had never before had any real coasting like this.]

When they got back again to the top of the hill, Tommy's father wanted
to know if they had had enough, but Tommy told him he never could have
enough. So they coasted down again and again, until at length his
father thought they had better be going home, and Johnny said he had
to go home, too, "to help his mother."

"How do you help?" asked Tommy's father, as they started off.

"Oh, just little ways," said Johnny. "I get wood--and split it up--and
go to Mr. Bucket's and get her things for her--draw water and feed the
cow, when we had a cow--we ain't got a cow now since our cow
died--and--oh--just a few little things like that."

Tommy's father made no reply, and Tommy, himself, was divided between
wonder that Johnny could call all that work "just a few little
things," and shame that he should say, "ain't got," which he, himself,
had been told he must never say.

His father, however, pr