"Tell you when we come back," shouted Sam, taking up the reins. "All set back there? Then here we go, jingle bells!"
The horse set off at a trot and the four little Blossoms grinned at each other delightedly. There were plenty of warm blankets in the sleigh and the livery stable man had put in a fur lap robe that made Twaddles think of a big black bear. None of the children had gone driving in a sleigh very often, for Father Blossom used his car practically all winter and kept no horses. Aunt Polly had horses and for all the children knew she might have a sleigh, though they had never seen one in the barn; but when they visited Aunt Polly at Brookside Farm, it was summer and snow was the one thing furthest from their thoughts.
"Meg," said Sam soberly as they left Oak Hill and turned into a country road, "this kind of a horse is called a calico horse. I thought you'd like to know."
"Well, foulard is something like calico—I mean the pattern is," Meg replied. "I like calico horses."
"I wish I'd brought the sled," said Bobby. "We could tie on behind and ride on it."
"It's more fun this way," Meg insisted, being a little girl who didn't always want something she didn't have. "Do you like to drive a sleigh, Sam?"
"Sure," said Sam over his shoulder. "Always did. When I was a boy and lived in the country, we had a real old-fashioned sleigh, with red cushions in it and everything. We used to drive down the river on the ice then—that was sport, let me tell you."
"Let us drive on the river," said the four little Blossoms with one voice.
"That's nothing but a creek, where you go to skate," Sam answered a little scornfully. "This river I'm talking about was a real river—wide and deep; boats came up it in summer time. We lived two or three hundred miles north of here and it was three times as cold."
"Well, it's cold enough now," said Dot wisely. "Isn't it, Meg?"