“Let’s make one,” said his father; and in a few minutes two holes were bored in the front of the runners.
It was now about dusk, and Tommy said he would like to take the sled down to Johnny’s house and leave it at his door where he could find it when he came home from work, and, maybe, he might think Santa Claus had brought it. So he and his father went together, Tommy dragging the sled and, while his father waited at the gate, Tommy took the sled and put it in the yard at the little side-door of Johnny’s home. As they were going along, he said, pointing to a small shed-like out-building at the end of the little yard, “That’s the cow-house. He keeps his goats there, too. Don’t you wish Santa Claus would bring his mother a cow? I don’t see how he could get down that small chimney!” he said, gazing at the little flue which came out of the roof. “I wonder if he does?”
“I wonder if he does?” said his father to himself.
When Tommy slipped back again and found his father waiting for him at the gate, he thought he had never had so fine a time in all his life. He determined to make a sled for somebody every Christmas.
