"Peter, I've thought of something. Let's make some snowshoes."

"How do you do it, Polly?"

"I think I know. I saw a pair this morning. They were made of barrel staves. They are not real snowshoes, of course."

"Of course not," said Peter. "Father's snowshoes are not made of barrel staves. Let's go to look at his. Let's make some like them."

"We can't, Peter. But we can make the other kind. Let's see if there is a broken barrel. Then we'll ask mother if we may have four staves."

"My flour barrel is just empty," said mother. "We will roll it outside. I will knock it to pieces. Then you may have your four staves. Please clean them out of doors. If you do not, you will get flour all over the workshop."

When the children took the staves into the workshop, Peter said, "What next?"

"We want four strips of leather next. They are for straps. We will tack one strap on each stave. They will go across the staves. We will tack them at the sides. They must be loose. We shall put our toes under them."

"How will our snowshoes stay on?" asked Peter.

"I'll show you by and by. I must ask mother to cut this leather for me."

When the leather was cut, Polly tacked on the straps. The snowshoes now looked like this:

"I wish to put mine on," said Peter.

So he stuck his toes under the leather straps. He scuffed over the floor. Then he tried to go backward. But he only pulled his feet out of the leather straps.

"They will not stay on. I knew they would not," he said. "I do not like them very well."

"I'm fixing mine so that they will stay on," said Polly. "I will fix yours, too."

To each end of the leather straps Polly had tied a piece of soft rope. Her snowshoes now looked like this:

"Put your toes under the straps, Peter. I will wind the ropes back of your heels. Now they go around your ankles and tie in front. See if the snowshoes will come off now."

Peter scuffed around the room again. The snowshoes held fast. They worked very well when he scuffed. But, if he tried to step, the backs flew up and hit him.

"Father's don't do that," said Peter.

"I know it," said Polly. "There are holes in father's. His toes go down through those holes. You haven't any holes. So your toes push the front of your snowshoes down. Then the backs fly up and hit you. You must scuff, not walk."

"I will," said Peter. "Let's go out of doors and try them. They are good snowshoes now."

So out the children went. There was a little crust. The children walked on it. Their snowshoes held them up.

They called to mother. She must see them. Mother looked through the window. She clapped her hands.

All went well for a few steps. Then the toe of Polly's snowshoe caught. It cut into the crust.

This pulled Polly forward. She fell on her face. Her arms stuck down into the snow. The points of her snowshoes stuck down into the snow, too. At first Polly could not get up.

Then she rolled over on her side. She was almost on her feet again, when Wag-wag dashed up.

He had seen Polly rolling in the snow. He thought it was a game. He wished to play, too.

He took the end of one snowshoe in his teeth. He pulled and pulled. He shook the snowshoe. Then he jumped around Polly and on her.

Polly was laughing so that she could not scold him. She could only say, "Oh, don't, Wag-wag! Don't!"

Mother and Peter were laughing. And perhaps Wag-wag was laughing, too.

At last he stopped playing. Mother came out of the house. She threw a broom to Polly. Polly helped herself up with this.

She said, "These are good snowshoes. They are best when I am on them. They are not so good when I am down. But I think that I can do better than that next time."