IF you never drove over the sparkling snow in a red sled drawn by a big, furry, white dog (who is really a Good Wolf in disguise) you don't know how delightful it was to Barty and how he laughed with joy to hear the gold bells jingle, jingle, jingling on the harness. When they trotted and jingled and slid into the forest the ground was covered with a thick white carpet over which the sled went flying. The branches of the trees were piled with white softness and the tiny pines and cedars, which were only just big enough to stick their heads above the deep snow, wore crowns and garlands and icicle diamonds. And everything seemed so still so still that you could hear a whisper a mile off.

"Where are the things that build nests and the things that burrow under the earth?" asked Barty.

"They are keeping out of the way. They are very careful when the snow is on the ground. You see it is so white that when they come out to hop or run about on it, men with guns and dogs can see them and that is very dangerous. But I am going to take you to a place where you will see plenty of them. You are going to see a Snow Feast. I am taking you now."

"What is a Snow Feast?" Barty asked, getting quite red with pleasure. "It does sound esciting." (He meant to say exciting.)

"It is exciting," answered the Good Wolf. "No little boy in the world has ever seen it."

"Has any big boy seen it?" asked Barty.

"No. Not one person in all the world has seen it. It is the greatest secret there ever was. If I were not a Good Wolf I could not see it. Only the very nicest people are allowed. It's the way you behave when knots are combed out of your hair, that lets you in."

Barty was so joyful that he wriggled on his sled and the bells on the reins jingled and jingled.

"I think I'll trot rather faster," the Good Wolf said.

"Would you mind trotting as fast as ever you can?" said Barty.

"I'll trot very fast," the Good Wolf answered. "I'm excited myself."

So he trotted faster and faster and faster and faster, and the sled whizzed over the snow and wound in and about between the tree trunks like lightning, but it never struck against anything, or upset or even joggled. It was simply wonderful. And the forest was wonderful. It was so much bigger than Barty had ever dreamed of its being. They went on and on and on and on, past strange trees, and strange dells, and strange caves, and the glittering snow was piled everywhere, and the sky grew bluer and bluer, and the sun shone brighter and brighter.

"It must be a Fairy Wood!" cried out Barty as they went flying along.

At that very minute they stopped. They were in a big circle with trees growing thick and tall all round it. The snow looked as if there were a great many tiny hillocks under its whiteness.

"I believe this is a rabbit warren," Barty said. "That is why the snow looks lumpy."

"You wanted to see what the things that burrow under the earth are doing and I am going to show you," answered the Good Wolf. "Get off the sled and take my harness off."

"But rabbits are afraid of dogs," said Barty.

"They are not afraid of me," said the Good Wolf. "If I did not go to their Snow Feast, they would be perfectly miserable. I'm always invited. Take my harness off." Barty took it off very politely.

"Now put it on the sled and come along," the Good Wolf ordered.

"But rabbits are afraid of boys," said Barty.

"They are not afraid of boys who are a blessing and a privilege. Come on."

They went to the largest hillock and stood by it. There was a hole in it, and Barty saw that it was an opening into a burrow.

"Is that the way in to the Snow Feast? he asked. "We are too big to get in there."

"Watch me," said the Good Wolf.

Once he shook himself, twice he shook himself, three times he shook himself, and each time he did it he got smaller and smaller until after the third time he was as small as a rabbit.

"But I am too big," said Barty.

"Shake yourself once, shake yourself twice, shake yourself three times," said the Good Wolf, "and you will see what will happen."

Once Barty shook himself, twice Barty shook himself, three times Barty shook himself, and he did see what happened. He was as small as a rabbit, and as he stood in the snow in his red coat and cap and his tiny rubber boots, he was too pretty for anything.

"Now for the Snow Feast," the Good Wolf said. "Just follow me."

Barty did follow him, and in a minute he found himself in a place like a wonderful little town under the earth. There were hundreds of long narrow passages like corridors, which crossed each other and ran this way and that, and seemed to have no end at all. The walls and roofs were smooth and brown, and were lighted by thousands and thousands of glow-worms that had fastened themselves in beautiful festoons and patterns overhead and along the sides of the corridors. It was like the most lovely illumination.

"Every glow-worm in the forest comes to the Snow Feast," the Good Wolf explained. "They can't dance but they like to look on. That is their way of enjoying themselves. They polish their lamps up for months before the Feast time."

They were so beautiful to look at that Barty could not have taken his eyes from them if the Good Wolf had not been in such a hurry. "We must not stop here," he said. "We mustn't really. We must get to the Hall of the Snow Feast. Trot along – trot along – trot along."

So they trotted and trotted round corners into other passages, and round other corners into other passages, in and out and farther and farther in the most wonderful and amusing way. The festoons and garlands of glow-worms lighted everything brilliantly, and presently they began to see all sorts of interesting little animals trotting along too as if they were all going to the same place. The delightful thing was that no animal was bigger than a small rabbit and there seemed to be every kind of animal Barty had ever heard of in his life or had ever seen pictures of. There were little elephants and little rhinoceroses, and little lions and tigers and leopards and giraffes, and wolves and foxes and bears, and tiny horses and sheep and cows, and they were all trotting along as if they were as happy as possible.

"Oh!" Barty cried out. "It looks as if a Noah's Ark had come alive. Look at that tiny elephant trotting by the lion! Why don't they fight?"

"Nothing fights at the Snow Feast.

Every one is quite tame. Lions and lambs talk things over, and cats and robins are intimate friends. Trot along – trot along."

Barty trotted along, but he could not help asking questions. He was so happy and excited.

"How did they make themselves so little?" he said. "Did they shake them selves before they came down into the burrow?"

"Yes."

Barty looked at the elephant, and remembering how monstrously big elephants are when you see them at a circus, he could not help laughing aloud.

"Once he shook himself, twice he shook himself, three times he shook himself, and then he grew as little as that," he said. "Oh! I wish I could take him home to play with."

"We will see what we can do about that," the Good Wolf said, just as if anything nice in the world might happen if you once came to a Snow Feast.

At the moment he said that, they turned another corner and there they were in a very much bigger passage, which ended in an archway toward which all the little animals were making their way. This archway was the entrance to a great Hall which was so big that you could not see the end of it. It was lighted by myriads and myriads of glow-worm lamps, and beautifully decorated with sea shells and flowers made of snow and icicle jewels, and there was music being played somewhere, and in one part there were tables loaded with every kind of delightful thing to feast on. It was the most beautiful place that Barty had ever beheld, and he really could not help jumping a little for joy when he got inside. A

little lion who had just trotted in saw him and laughed.

"I feel like that too!" he said, and he gave two or three funny little jumps himself.

"I didn't know you could talk," said Barty.

"We can all talk at the Snow Feast," said the little lion. "That's the fun of it."

"May I pat you?" Barty asked.

"Yes," the little lion answered. "May I pat you?"

That made Barty laugh.

"You may if you like," he said, "but I did not know animals wanted to pat people."

"They don't," said the little lion, making a merry little skip. "I just said that for fun." And then Barty and he laughed like anything.

They were intimate friends from that minute, and the Good Wolf, who had to go to speak to some one on business, left them together. Then, I can tell you, fun began. The little lion brought another little lion to Barty, and then he brought two fat little roly-poly bears who were twin brothers; and then he brought a tiny elephant, and a baby hippopotamus, and three beautiful kitten leopards, and the most lovely little snow-white horse with a long mane and a tail almost sweeping the ground.

Barty could scarcely believe his eyes. When the little elephant tossed up his trunk and trumpeted for him he almost shouted.

"It seems as if you couldn't be real," he said.

"We are real," said the small elephant.

"But we are only like this once a year and no other boy has ever seen us."

And suddenly, just as he spoke, they heard a tramping and tramping and the sound of music grew louder and louder as if it were coming nearer, and the little elephant threw up his trunk and trumpeted very loud as if he were saluting royalty.

"What is it? What is it?" cried Barty. "Who's coming? Who's coming?"

He said it to the Good Wolf, who at that minute came running back in a great hurry, pushing his way through the crowd.

"Get into line!" he said. "Get into line! They are entering the hall – their Royal Highnesses, the Noah's Ark Rabbits!"