"I suppose your father thinks he can build a horseless carriage to go that fast!" "They go that fast already, sometimes." "Yes," said George; "they do--for about a hundred feet! Then they give a yell and burn up." Evidently she decided not to defend her father's faith in horseless carriages, for she laughed, and said nothing.

The cold air was polka-dotted with snowflakes, and trembled to the loud, continuous jingling of sleighbells.

Boys and girls, all aglow and panting jets of vapour, darted at the passing sleighs to ride on the runners, or sought to rope their sleds to any vehicle whatever, but the fleetest no more than just touched the flying cutter, though a hundred soggy mittens grasped for it, then reeled and whirled till sometimes the wearers of those daring mittens plunged flat in the snow and lay a-sprawl, reflecting.

For this was the holiday time, and all the boys and girls in town were out, most of them on National Avenue.
But there came panting and chugging up that flat thoroughfare a thing which some day was to spoil all their sleigh-time merriment--save for the rashest and most disobedient.

It was vaguely like a topless surry, but cumbrous with unwholesome excrescences fore and aft, while underneath were spinning leather belts and something that whirred and howled and seemed to stagger.