"You're enough to frighten any one to death," she screamed, "creeping about like a cat."
Susy had a foolish dread of being laughed at.
"Creeping like a cat," echoed Percy, "while you creep like a snail! What will you take for your pony, that can fly in the air like a bird, but can't walk on the ground any better than a goose?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Susy, quite excited: "if you want to see anybody ride fast, just look here." And she started the pony at full speed, regardless of Prudy, who was so frightened, that she seized poor Wings by his flowing mane, and called out for her sister to stop. But Susy dashed on at a flying pace, and Percy cried after her, "O, Susy, cousin Susy, what think of your Christmas present? Will you remember not to eat it, and not to hang it on a nail? Susy, Susy?"
There was hardly a happier child living than Susy, during those delightful holidays. She said to herself, sometimes, that this was such a beautiful world, she couldn't think of a single thing that wasn't as splendid as it could be.
CHAPTER V.
PRUDY'S TROUBLE.
The happy days flew by. The Old Year was worn out, and the New Year stepped in fresh and youthful. Susy found her little sleigh a very comfortable affair; and so, I think, did "lame Jessie." When her father found that Susy had really chosen for her pony the name of Wings, he ordered a beautiful picture of the Flying Horse to be painted on the dashboard of the sleigh.