harness, which was only partly fastened on, and began leaping about in
the snow. Finally he stood up on his hind legs and marched about, for
Snap was a trick dog, and had once belonged to a circus.

"There now! Look at that!" cried Freddie. "He's spoiled everything!
We'll never get him hitched up now."

"It--it wasn't my fault," said Flossie, a tear or two coming into her
eyes.

"I know it wasn't, Flossie," replied Freddie, speaking more quietly.
"It's always just that way with Snap when he gets excited. Come here!"
he called to the dog, "and let me harness you. Come here Snap!"

The dog was well enough trained so that he knew when the time for fun
was over and when he had to settle down. Still wagging his tail
joyously, however, Snap came up to Freddie, who started over again the
work of harnessing the animal to the sled.

"I guess you'd better stand at his tail instead of at his head," said
Freddie. "So when he wags it you can grab it, Flossie, and hold it
still. Then it won't slap me in the face, and I can see what I'm
doing. Hold his tail, Flossie."

"Then he can't wag it," objected the little girl.

"I know he can't. I don't want him to."

"But it may make him angry."