he dressed himself quickly and ran downstairs.
And this was the first thing his mother said to him as she came in from the wood shed:
"I've just been looking at your new sled, Barty, and it is the nicest one I ever saw."
"Oh!" Barty almost shouted, "is it in the woodshed? Is it?" And he flew out to look, and there it was! And it was just as red and just as jingling and just as beautiful as ever.
"The Good Wolf wasn't a dream," he cried joyfully. "And so the
