It was the old brown mare. They had ridden horseback on her last summer. That was when they went with John to hunt for the turtle's eggs.
"There she is, I think," said Polly.
"Are you looking for John's mare? Yes, that is the one," said Farmer Brown. "You will not need her to ride any more. I hear you have a pony of your own."
Then the children told him about their pony. They told him about the Christmas tree.
"Ho, ho!" laughed Farmer Brown. "Who ever heard of a pony on a Christmas tree?"
"But think of a pony in a letter box," said Polly. And Farmer Brown laughed still more.
How warm the cow stable was! Polly said, "How can it be so warm? There is no stove."
"The cows themselves make it warm," said Mr. Brown. "See, here is one just the color of a deer. Isn't she pretty?"
"I guess the deer would be glad, if they had such a nice, warm house," said Polly.