Down the hill Brownie trotted. Her bells jingled softly. She went across the railroad track and into the bridge.
Some of the village children were looking over the railing. They were watching men cutting ice.
When they saw Peter and Polly, they cried, "Here comes the pony! See Peter and Polly! Look at the red sled! Give us a ride! Oh, give us a ride!"
"Yes, we will," said Polly. "Come up on the street, where it is smooth. Two of you get in with us. We will take two more by and by."
Polly could drive quite well. She had often driven father's horse, when father took her with him. She let each child hold Brownie's reins.
"Let more ride at once," said one of the girls. "There is room in the sled."
"No," said Polly. "The pony is strong, but she is little. I will not let her drag more than four. And two are enough, going uphill."
So they trotted up and down the street. Sometimes the boys and girls who were not riding ran by Brownie's side. Brownie seemed to enjoy the fun as much as any of them.
At last it was time to go home. The children all patted the pony. This was to thank her for the good time she had given them. Then Peter and Polly drove away, up the hill.