Bobby jumped in, and they drove away. The pony trotted very busily with more appearance of speed than actual swiftness. The little sleigh, being low to the ground, emphasized this illusion; so that the two small boys had all the exhilaration of tearing along at a racing gait. "This is great!" cried Bobby. "What else did you get?" "Yes, and there's a two-wheeled cart for summer," said Johnny; "and when you slide the seat forward a little and let down the back, it makes another seat. I'll show you when we go back." Shortly they decided to do this. Johnny attempted to turn in his tracks, as he had seen cutters do on the Avenue. But here the snow was not packed flat, as it is on the thoroughfare, so that when the twisting was applied one runner promptly left earth, and the whole sleigh canted dangerously. A moment later, however, in response to the frantic counterbalancing of two frightened small boys and the sensible coming to a halt of the fuzzy pony, it sank back to solidity. "Gee!" breathed Johnny, wide-eyed, "That was a close squeak!" They turned more cautiously, and in a wide circle, and jingled away toward home. It might be mentioned that the bells were not strung as a belt to encircle the pony, but were attached below to the underside of the thills in such a manner as to contribute chimes. "What's his name?" asked Bobby, referring to the pony. "He hasn't any. I got to name him." "I knew a very nice horse once. His name was Bucephalus," remarked Bobby tentatively. "I tell you!" cried Johnny, who had not been listening. "I'll name him Bobby, after you!" "Oh!" cried that young man. "Will you?" He gazed at the pony with new respect. "It'll mix things up a little, though, won't it?" reflected Johnny. "I tell you. We'll call him Bobby Junior. How's that?" "That's fine!" agreed Bobby gravely.