“Now, Prince,” said the little girl as they set forth, “I do hope we don’t meet any cats—or other dogs, either. Dogs are bad enough; but, you know, if you see a cat you cannot keep your mind on what you are doing.”
Prince whined and wagged his ridiculous tail. It did seem as though he knew just what she was talking about.
However, until they got away from The Corners, at least, they met with no adventure. The blacksmith hailed Carolyn May—he was a jolly fellow—and asked her if she wanted to have her horse sharpened.
“No, thank you, Mr. Lardner,” the little girl replied. “You see, Prince has got his claws, so he can’t slip on the hard snow. He doesn’t need to be sharpened like the horses.”
It was not altogether a pleasant afternoon, for there was a curtain of haze being drawn over the sun, and the wind was searching. And not only did the wind cut sharply, but it blew clouds of light snow from the tops of the drifts into one’s face and eyes. Carolyn May almost wished she had not started for Miss Amanda’s house—and this before she was halfway to her destination.
Prince, however, did not seem to mind it much. The sled slipped easily over the beaten snow, and Carolyn May was a light load for him, for Prince was a strong dog.
Out of sight of the houses grouped at The Corners the road to town seemed as lonely as though it were a veritable wilderness. Here and there the drifts had piled six feet deep, for the wind had a free sweep across the barrens.
“Now, there’s somebody coming,” said Carolyn May, seeing a moving object ahead between the clouds of drifting snow spray. “Is it a sleigh, Princey, or just a man?”
She lost sight of the object, then sighted it again.
“It must be a man. It can’t be a bear, Princey.” Everybody had told her there were no more bears left in the woods about Sunrise Cove.