May fill Mr. Somebody’s heart with glee.
A CHRISTMAS RIDE.
The sleigh had just driven from the door, with a great jingling and shouting, and the little boy was left at home, with his foot up on the sofa, for he had a sprained ankle. “I wish I could have gone!” said the little boy.
“You shall go!” said Sister Sunshine. “We will go together, you and I!”
She brought a great book, with bright pictures in it, and sat down by the little boy’s side.
“First, we must choose our carriage!” she said. There was a whole page of carriage pictures, all very splendid, and after some thought they chose a gilded shell, with the front turning over into a swan’s neck. An Empress of Russia had driven in this, the book said, and so they thought it was good enough for them. The horses were coal-black, and there were six of them, four more than Papa and the other children had. Sister Sunshine tucked the little boy well up, and it appeared that the robes were all of ermine and sable, whereas, he had been thinking that they were only a striped afghan. One does not always know things till one is told.
“Here we go!” cried Sister Sunshine. “How the horses dash along! It takes my breath away! We are going to St. Petersburg to see the ice palace on the Neva. The Empress has sent her own private sleigh to take the little boy, and I can go, too, because I belong to him.”
She turned the page, and there, sure enough, was the ice palace. The sun shone splendidly on it, and it looked as if the fairies had built it.