'Course I hev,' said Otis; 'broke my own knife an' Lute Ingraham's
a-doin' it, but it don't seem to make no dif'rence--the darned ol'
thing won't go!' Then, what did Simon Buzzell say but that, like's
not, it was because Otis's sled's name was 'Snow Queen.' 'Never did
see a girl sled that was worth a cent, anyway,' sez Simon. Well, now,
that jest about broke Otis up in business. 'It ain't a girl sled,' sez
he, 'and its name ain't "Snow Queen"! I'm a-goin' to call it "Dan'l
Webster," or "Ol'ver Optic," or "Sheriff Robbins," or after some other
big man!' An' the boys plagued him so much about that pesky girl sled
that he scratched off the name, an', as I remember, it _did_ go better
after that!

"About the only thing," continued Joel, "that marred the harmony of
the occasion, as the editor of the _Hampshire County Phoenix_ used to
say, was the ashes that Deacon Morris Frisbie sprinkled out in front
of his house. He said he wasn't going to have folks breakin' their
necks jest on account of a lot of frivolous boys that was goin' to the
gallows as fas' as they could! Oh, how we hated him! and we'd have
snowballed him, too, if we hadn't been afraid of the constable that
lived next door. But the ashes didn't bother us much, and every time
we slid side-saddle we'd give the ashes a kick, and that sort of
scattered 'em."

The bare thought of this made Santa Claus laugh.

"Goin' on about nine o'clock," said Joel, "the girls come
along--Sister Elvira an' Thankful, Prudence Tucker, Belle Yocum,
Sophrone Holbrook, Sis Hubbard, an' Marthy Sawyer. Marthy's brother
Increase wanted her to ride on _his_ sled, but Marthy allowed that a
red sled was her choice every time. 'I don't see how I'm goin' to