But, as they turned into their driveway, Polly pulled the wrong rein. Brownie stepped to the side of the road. One of the sled runners struck a bank of snow.
Over went sled, children, and buttermilk. Brownie stopped and looked around. Polly was standing on her head in the soft snow. Peter was covered with buttermilk. No one was hurt.
Polly scrambled up. She pulled Peter to his feet. She said, "Don't cry, Peter. Buttermilk will not hurt you. You like it."
"Yes, I do," said Peter. "But that is inside, not outside. How would you like it down your neck?"
"Well," said Polly, "you get into the sled again. We must go back for more buttermilk. You may drive all the way. Perhaps you won't tip us over."
DISH-PAN SLEDS
"Peter and Polly," said mother, "should you like to play a new game?"
"Oh, yes, oh, yes! Tell us fast!" cried both children.