Mother came out of the house. She said, "Do you think you can do an errand for me? Can you drive to the creamery? I wish some buttermilk. Here is a pail for it."
"What fun," said Polly. "Yes, of course, we can do that. You hold the pail, Peter."
Down the hill they trotted again. At the creamery, Polly took the pail. She went inside.
She said, "Have you some buttermilk for me?"
"Plenty," said the creamery man. "Just hold your pail under the faucet."
"See our new pony," said Polly. "See our new sled."
"Are you driving your pony? I saw her the day she came. She is a fine pony. If you tip over going home, come back for more buttermilk."
"Thank you," said Polly. "We have not tipped over yet."
"There always has to be a first time," said the man.
Going up the hill, Polly said, "We are nearly home. Perhaps we shall not tip over to-day. Why does every one think that we shall?"