Outside the barn, in the snow-covered farmyard, Johnnie Green mounted Twinkleheels and rode him beyond the gate, where he could watch the fun up the road.
Yoked to a sort of plough, Bright and Broad, the oxen, tore through the piled-up snow and threw it to either side in great ridges.
"I'm going ahead to the crossroads," Johnnie Green told his father.
That plan pleased Twinkleheels. Before Farmer Green could speak he plunged out of the broken road and wallowed in snow up to his neck. He was going to show Bright and Broad that he could get to the crossroads before they did.
"Don't do that!" Farmer Green shouted to Johnnie.
He was too late. The words were scarcely out of his mouth before Twinkleheels was reaching desperately for a footing. His toes found nothing firm beneath them—nothing but yielding snow. And his frantic struggles only made him sink the deeper.
Johnnie Green slid off Twinkleheels' back and tried to help him.
He could do nothing. And he turned a somewhat frightened face to his father.
"We're stuck!" he faltered. "I can get out; but Twinkleheels can't. Do you suppose Bright and Broad could pull him out?"
"They could yank twenty of him back on the road," Farmer Green declared. "But we don't need them. I'll dig the pony out."