“And only for Peter,” put in Dorothy, “we could not have gotten Emily her tree. Now that’s how a horse can turn Santa Claus. Good-bye, Mr. Sanders, you may expect us before Christmas.”
And then the two girls followed the chuckling Peter back to the Fire Bird, where the boys impatiently awaited them, to complete the delayed party bound for home, and for the Christmas holidays.
CHAPTER IV
A REAL BEAUTY BATH
“This is some,” remarked Bob Niles, before he knew what he was talking about. They had just been ensconsed in Daddy Brennen’s sleigh. Tavia was beside him—that is, she was as close beside him as she was beside Daddy Brennen, but the real fact was, that in this sleigh, no one could be beside anyone else—it was ever a game of toss and catch. But that was not Daddy’s fault. He never stopped calling to his horse, or pulling at the reins. It must have been the roads, yet everyone paid taxes in Dalton Township.
“Don’t boast,” Tavia answered, adjusting herself anew to the last jolt, “this never was a sleigh to boast of, and it seems to be worse than ever now. There!” she gasped, as she almost fell over the low board that outlined the edge, “one more like that, and I will be mixed up with the gutter.”
“Perhaps this is a safer place,” Bob ventured. “I seem to stay put pretty well. Won’t you change with me?”
“No, thanks,” Tavia answered, good-humoredly. “When Daddy assigns one to a seat one must keep it.”
“Nice clean storm,” Daddy called back from the front. “I always like a white Christmas.”
“Yes,” Tavia said, “looks as if this is going to be white enough. But what are you turning into the lane for, Daddy?”
“Promised Neil Blair I’d take his milk in for him. He can’t get out much in storms—rheumatism.”