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He even began to dream of being able to go out some time and join the bigger boys in coasting down the long hill on the other side from Johnny Stout’s, for though his father and mother thought he was still rather small to do this, his father had promised that he might do it sometime, and Tommy thought “sometime” would be after his next birthday. When the heavy snow fell just before Christmas he began to be sorry that he had broken up the sled Santa Claus had given him the Christmas before. In fact, Tommy had never wanted a sled so much as he did the afternoon two days before Christmas, when he persuaded his father to take him out again to the coasting hill to see the boys coasting. There were all sorts of sleds: short sleds and long sleds, bob-sleds and flexible fliers. They held one, two, three, and sometimes even half a dozen boys and girls–for there were girls, too–all shouting and laughing as they went flying down the hill, some sitting and some lying down, but all flying and shouting, and none taking the least notice of Tommy. Sate made them take notice of him; for he would rush out after the sleds, barking just as if they had been cats, and several times he got bowled over–once, indeed, he got tangled up in the string of a sled and was dragged squealing with fright down the hill. Suddenly, however, Tommy gave a jump. Among the sleds flying by, most of them painted red, and very fine looking, was a plain, unpainted one, and lying full length upon it, on his stomach, with his heels high in the air, was Johnny Stout, with a red comforter around his neck, and a big cap pulled down over his ears. Tommy knew him at once.

“Look, father, look!” he cried, pointing; but Johnny’s sled was far down the hill before his father could see him. A few minutes later he came trudging up the hill again and, seeing Tommy, ran across and asked him if he would like to have a ride. Tommy’s heart bounded, but sank within him again when his father said, “I am afraid he is rather little.”

“Oh! I’ll take care of him, sir,” said Johnny, whose cheeks were glowing. Tommy began to jump up and down.

“Please, father, please,” he urged. His father only smiled.

“Why, you are not so very big yourself,” he said to Johnny.

“Big enough to take care of him,” said Johnny.

“Why, father, he’s awful big,” chimed in Tommy.

“Do you think so?” laughed his father. He turned to Johnny. “What is your name?”

“Johnny, sir. I live down below your house.” He pointed across toward his own home.

“I know him,” said Tommy proudly. “He has got goats and he let me drive them.”

“Yes, he can drive,” said Johnny, condescendingly, with a nod, and Tommy was proud of his praise. His father looked at him.

“Is your sled strong?” he asked.

“Yes, sir. I made it myself,” said Johnny, and he gave the sled a good kick to show how strong it was.

“All right,” said Tommy’s father. They followed Johnny to the top of the slide, and Tommy got on in front and his father tucked his coat in.

“Hold on and don’t be afraid,” he said.

“Afraid!” said Tommy contemptuously. Just then Johnny, with a whoop and a push which almost upset Tommy, flung himself on behind and away they went down the hill, as Johnny said, “just ski-uting.”

Tommy had had sledding in his own yard; but he had never before had any real coasting like this, and he had never dreamed before of anything like the thrill of dashing down that long hill, flying like the wind, with Johnny on behind, yelling “Look out!” to every one, and guiding so that the sled tore in and out among the others, and at the foot of the hill actually turned around the curve and went far on down the road.

“You’re all right,” said Johnny, and Tommy had never felt prouder. His only regret was that the hill did not tilt up the other way so that they could coast back instead of having to trudge back on foot.

When he waked next morning there was the polar bearskin which he and Johnny had brought back with them, not to mention the sealskin coat, and though Johnny, when he next saw him, was too much excited at first by his new sled and the fine fresh cow which his mother had found in her cow-house that morning, to talk about anything else, yet, when he and his mother came over after breakfast to see Tommy’s father and thank him for something, they said that Santa Claus had paid them a visit such as he never had paid before, and they brought with them Johnny’s goats, which they insisted on giving Tommy as a Christmas present. So Tommy Trot knew that Santa Claus had got his letter.