"Oh, that's beautiful! Thank you, Imogen," cried Matilda, gratefully.

"Well, run along and don't say another word to me," said Imogen,
scowling over the crimson tibet. "Wrap up warm."

When they started, Matilda insisted upon dragging Comfort first in
the sled. "I'll drag you as far as Dr. Hutchins's," said she. "Then
you get off and drag me as far as the meeting-house. I guess that's
about even."

It was arduous, and it is probable that the little girls were much
longer reaching Bolton than they would have been had they traveled on
their two sets of feet all the way; but they persuaded themselves
otherwise.

"We can't be--a mite--tired," panted Matilda, as she tugged Comfort
over the last stretch, "for we each of us rode half the way, and a
mile and a half ain't anything. You walk that every day to school and
back."

"Yes, I do," assented Comfort. She could not believe that she was
tired, either, although every muscle in her body ached.

Bolton was a large town, and the people from all the neighboring
villages went there to do their trading and shopping. There was a
wide main street, with stores on each side; and that day it was full
of sleighs and pungs and wood-sleds, and there were so many people
that Comfort felt frightened. She had never been to Bolton without
her father or mother. "Just look at all the folks," said she. And she