The Tale of Peter Mink | Page 9

first thing you know, you'll be down in the valley."

Jimmy Rabbit said to himself that Peter Mink was very bright, to think
of such a splendid plan as nailing his trousers to the sled. He thanked
Peter; and he gripped the sled tightly--though he didn't need to--while
Peter gave him a push that sent him flying down the mountainside.
Though he went like the wind, he never fell off once. And soon he was
down in Pleasant Valley, skimming over the crust which covered the
drifts in Farmer Green's meadow.
At last the sled stopped. And then Jimmy Rabbit decided that Peter
Mink had forgotten something. How was he to get off the sled with his
trousers nailed fast to it? And what would his mother say, when she
saw the nail-holes in his trousers? And what would his father do, when
he saw the nails in Jimmy's new sled?
It was not very pleasant for Jimmy Rabbit, sitting all alone in the
meadow, with such thoughts running through his head.
After he had sat there a while Jimmy heard something that worried him
even more. He heard old dog Spot barking. And he saw that he would
be in a good deal of a fix if Spot should happen to come along and find
him. For he couldn't stir from his sled.
Jimmy began to hate that sled. He wished he had never seen it.... And
then he heard somebody scampering over the crust. He was almost too
frightened to look around to see who it was. But he turned his head.
And he was glad to find that it was Peter Mink, who had run all the
way down from Blue Mountain.
"You had a fine ride, didn't you?" said Peter Mink.
"Yes," Jimmy answered. "But I liked the beginning of it better than the
end."
"Why, what's the matter?" Peter inquired.
"I can't get off the sled," Jimmy said.

Peter Mink pretended to be surprised. And he said that he hadn't
thought of that.
"But I'll help you," he promised.
Jimmy Rabbit thanked him.
"But," said Peter Mink, "I can't do all these things for you for nothing,
of course. I have too much else to do, to be wasting my time like this,
without pay."
"What do you want?" Jimmy Rabbit asked him.
"Give me the sled," said Peter Mink, "and I'll help you to get off it."
"All right," Jimmy agreed. He would even have given Peter his
wheelbarrow, too, he was so anxious to be freed from his seat. "I think,
though, that you might pull me up the mountain," Jimmy added. "I
don't feel like walking." And that was quite true, because he had been
so frightened, when he heard old Spot barking, that his legs were still
shaking.
"Well," said Peter Mink, "I'm pretty particular who rides on my sled.
But I'll pull you up the mountain, because I'm going that way myself, to
slide."
And he started off, dragging Jimmy Rabbit behind him.
[Illustration]

WHAT COULD PETER DO?
Peter Mink was pulling Jimmy Rabbit up the mountainside. You
remember that Jimmy had a new sled, and that Peter had nailed
Jimmy's trousers to the sled, so he wouldn't fall off when he slid down
Blue Mountain. But when Jimmy had coasted down into the meadow
he found he could not get off the sled. So Peter Mink had offered to

help him, if Jimmy would give him the sled in return for his kindness.
"How do you like my new sled?" Peter Mink asked Jimmy Rabbit, as
he stopped to rest, after climbing a steep slope.
But before Jimmy Rabbit could answer, an alarming sound rang
through the clear air and startled them both. It was old dog Spot, baying
as if he had found some very interesting tracks.
"Hurry!" Jimmy Rabbit cried. "We don't want Spot to catch us!"
"Get off my sled!" Peter Mink ordered. "How can I run fast, pulling a
great, fat fellow like you?"
"How can I get off," Jimmy answered, "when I'm nailed fast to the
sled?"
"I'll get you off," said Peter. And he took hold of Jimmy Rabbit's ears
and began to pull as hard as he could. But the sled only slipped along
on the snow.
"Grab this sapling!" Peter Mink cried, drawing Jimmy close to a small
tree. "And I'll pull the sled from under you." But all his pulling did no
more than to make Jimmy's arms ache. For Jimmy was nailed so fast to
the sled that he stuck to it--or it stuck to him--as if they were just one,
instead of two, things.
"I wish my mother hadn't made me wear such stout trousers," Jimmy
Rabbit said. For once, he wished he wore old, ragged clothes, like
Peter's. If