“Poor Grump!” sighed Meg. “He tried to boil me down, and use my soul in a magic essence, but I really think that I am sorry to think that he has got to be a snail for the rest of his life.” “Look!” cried Bizzybuzz. Out between the trees on their left stalked a strange animal,—strange, at least, to all of them except Bab and the reindeer. “Oh, stop the sleigh!” cried Bab. “It’s my dear Wooden Cow!” “You can’t stop the sleigh,” said Dick. “Look at that man on horseback who is still following us.” “I think that she is right,” said Bizzybuzz. “It is safe to stop the sleigh, for this beast has evidently been sent by Santa Claus to help us.” The reindeer seemed to think so too, for they stopped short and even wheeled around. The Wooden Cow approached them with short, stiff steps. “I have the honour,” she remarked, “to offer you my services. I have come all the way from the far north to help you.” “Well, there’s no time to lose,” said Bizzybuzz, looking at the quickly nearing figures of the man and the horse. “If you can do anything, please do it soon.” The Wooden Cow turned away, and walked, with its own wooden dignity, to meet the rider from the Red City. When it was quite close to him, it stopped, and stood motionless in the middle of the path, and stared straight ahead of it at the galloping horseman. And a queer thing happened. The horse stopped short. The man on its back became utterly still. There was a sort of a pause, and then the same dreadful change began to come over both horse and man which they had seen come over the Wicked King. They both turned to wood, and the expressions on the two wooden faces—that of the man and the animal alike—were so wicked and cruel and horrid that one could not feel at all sorry that they had been turned to wood. The Wooden Cow returned with slow and solemn steps to the sleigh. Her horn was still tied on with Bab’s ribbon, and the top of her head was smeared in places with the sticky black paint and saw-dust. “I hope that is satisfactory?” she said. They all thanked her, and Bab leaned out of the sleigh to hug her hard. “You dear old thing!” she said. “How sweet of you to turn up just now to help us!” “Santa Claus sent you, I suppose?” said Bizzybuzz. The Wooden Cow looked hurt. “No one sent me,” she declared. “I heard of the trouble you were in, and I came to see what I could do. I can usually turn people into wood when I don’t like them, and I was grateful to the little girl who put on my horn and chased the Mischief Brownies away. Now that my duty is done, I will go back to Santa Claus’s barn.” “Oh, thank you, thank you, dear Wooden Cow,” cried Bab. “Give my love to Santa Claus when you get home!” The Cow disappeared among the trees, and the reindeer started forward again.