Half-Past Seven Stories | Page 7

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!"
Some folks thought he was silly, and Mrs. Hamm, riding by in a buggy,
on the road below, said to Mr. Hamm,--
"There's that good-for-nothing Frank Clark again, hollerin' like a wild
Injun with all those children."
"Yes, Maria," agreed her husband. "I'd send him to the work'us if I was
on the Township Committee."
But the Hamms, like many other people, were very stupid. Was the
Toyman worth while? You just ask Jehosophat and Marmaduke and
Hepzebiah and Wienerwurst, and hear what they have to say.
Once during that long and glorious afternoon they had trouble. Fatty
Hamm started it. It was the only thing he was good at--trouble and
eating. And, of course, Reddy Toms and Dicky Means had to help him.
Anyway, Fatty pushed Hepzebiah into a deep snowdrift--when he