But no—
"This sleigh can run on air just as well as on snow," the odd little driver explained.
Another touch of the icicle whip, a jingle of bells, a snort from the reindeer, and they were off—off through the air towards the sailing moon.
Marmaduke was so interested in looking up that he didn't see little Wienerwurst run ahead of all the animals. That doggie beat them all to the top of the hill. And when he came to the top he just jumped out in the air and landed safe on the runner of the sleigh, and curled up there and hid and didn't make any noise.
It was very clear high up in the air, and Marmaduke looked down.
The houses had shrivelled all up. As small as Wienerwurst's own little house they seemed. And the trees were as small as plants in the garden.
He looked down again. The earth was far below them.
By the white steeple of the church they flew. In the steeple was a little window. The bell-rope hung out. Jack jerked it as they went past.
"Ding, dong—
Something's wrong."
So spoke the deep voice of the old bell. He was a hundred years old, and such strange things had never happened in his life before.