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And, oh yes, he had to paint the word “Scud” in blue letters, right near the star.

Yes sir, there was no doubt about it, it was the finest bobsled in the world–the whole world, we mean.

And again the boys shouted, “Hooray!,” together as in a chorus, not forgetting to add,–“And thank you, Toyman, heaps!”

Then they happened to think the bobsled was ready, but something else was missing–something very necessary, too.

“Now for the snow!” Jehosophat said.

“I can knock together a bobsled, sonny,” the Toyman replied, “But I haven’t any tools to make that.”

So every night, when he said his prayers, Marmaduke added another sentence to “God bless Mamma an’ Papa an’ the Toyman an’ Wienie an'” all the rest of his friends. Perhaps you can guess what it was. No? Well it sounded something like this:

“An’ please, God, send us some snow,–a whole lot of it!”

Well, it came in about a week. On the twenty-third of November, to be exact.

It took only an hour to make the fields white, and only about three for the snow to pile deep enough to carry the new bobsled.

The Toyman looked at the sky, then at the ground, and then at his shop.

“Guess I’ll knock off,” he said. He was always knocking off work or something for the children.

But he had to stop their quarreling now. Each one wanted the honor of pulling the big bobsled first. For it was a thing to be proud of, with its yellow runners and the blue edge around them, and the red seat with the white star in the middle.

“You’re as bad as the pigs in the corner pen,” said the Toyman, “where are your manners?”

That settled it, of course. Turns! That was the proper way, and off they went.

But after all, “taking turns” wasn’t as fine as the next thing the Toyman suggested.

“All jump on,” he called, “and I’ll be the cayuse.”

That was a funny word he had learned out West, but by this time the children knew he meant horse. So the three, Jehosophat, Marmaduke, and Hepzebiah, sat on the red seat and were pulled through the snow, oh, ever so swiftly!

It was like riding through fairyland, for the branches above them were furred with white feathery snow, and the woods looked like some great lace design made by the Winter Queen who, they say, knits when the nights are cold and the Winter King is out at the club.

Soon they reached the hill. It was pretty steep and Jehosophat and Marmaduke wanted to get off and walk up so as to make it easier for the Toyman. He wouldn’t hear of that, but just set his shoulders like Teddy in the shafts and puffed and pulled up hill.

On the fields the snow was light and feathery like powdered sugar, but on the hill it had been packed down hard by the coasters. There were so many of them, boys and girls from the neighborhood all around! Some were at the top, and some at the bottom, and some in the middle, sliding merrily down.

When the Three Happy Children reached the top of the hill the Toyman cried:

“I’ll sit in front to steer and hold little Hepzebiah. You boys sit in back, Jehosophat at the end, and hold on to the grips.”

Yes there were grips, too, for the Toyman hadn’t forgotten anything that goes with a perfect sled.

“All aboard! Toot, toot!” he shouted, and Jehosophat yelled,–

“Clear the way!”

And down the hill they shot. It wasn’t like any other kind of travel in the world. Perhaps it was more like flying than anything else, but that was funny, too, when you come to think of it, for when you fly you usually go up, and they were going down.

They reached the bottom all too soon, but the trip was worth the trouble of trudging back, especially as all the hard work was done by the Toyman.

When they reached the top again, once more he shouted, “All aboard, toot, toot!”