Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

King out, who came forth shivering.
“Where is the bobby”. some one asked.
“Out in the orchard” was the response “wait until I get something on”.
“You’d better” said Bill.
With heads down to the wind, we made for the orchard. King joined us a moment later.
“Ye gods, it’s an awful night” he remarked.
“I should say so” I rejoined “shall we go sledding or play cards?”
“Go sledding of course” cried Smith.
So we went, arriving at what King declared was a sled. We rubbed our eyes – no there was nothing but snow there.
In reply t our denials, King brushed away some snow: sure enough there was the top of a “bobby”. It was padded with straw in sacks, which were frozen stiff. Bill fumbled for the rope and pulled. No answer – I mean – no movement. So all three of us heaved on the starboard side, while Bill pulled. Presently the injured sled groaned and creaking, it