"Now, young man," said Mr. Taylor, "Tom and I will see after your horse,
while you pilot your sisters to the house. They can both ride back on my
horse; he will carry them through the drifts better than they can walk.
Here are some rugs. Now, shall I help you to mount?" turning to Dexie.
"We are so cold I fear we can't hold on," she replied, her teeth chattering
an accompaniment to her words. "I feel as if I had no feet at all," she
added, as they lifted her up and brushed the snow from her garments.
"Oh, Lancy! I can't ride a horse," said Elsie, who was being brushed and
rubbed back to life. "I never could sit on a rocking-horse itself. I'll be
sure to fall."
"Well, you won't have far to fall, so let that comfort you," said Dexie,
who was settling herself to her unusual position. "Lift her up, Lancy.
There! now hold on tight, Elsie, for if you fall off we can't stop to dig
for you!" and the awkward riders moved slowly through the drifts, while Mr.
Taylor and his son disappeared down the bank, and very soon their shouts
told that the submerged horse was rescued.
The poor animal was thoroughly chilled, but warm rugs were spread over him,
and when, in the shelter of the stable, he was rubbed and doctored, he
seemed none the worse for his cold bath.
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