the head."

Faith jumped out into the snow, and valorously set to work at the
buckles. She managed to undo one, and to slip out the fastening of the
trace, on one side, where it held to the whiffletree. But the horse was
lying so that she could not get at the other.

"I'll come there, father!" she cried, clambering and struggling through
the drift till she came to the horse's head. "Can't I hold him while you
undo the harness?"

"I don't believe you can, Faithie. He isn't down so flat as to be quite
under easy control."

"Not if I sit on his head?" asked Faith.

"That might do," replied her father, laughing. "Only you would get
frightened, maybe, and jump up too soon."

"No, I won't," said Faith, quite determined upon heroism. While she
spoke, she had picked up the whip, which had fallen close by, doubled
back the lash against the handle, and was tying her blue veil to its
tip. Then she sat down on the animal's great cheek, which she had never
fancied to be half so broad before, and gently patted his nose with one
hand, while she upheld her blue flag with the other. Major's big,
panting breaths came up, close beside her face. She kept a quick,
watchful eye upon the road below.

"He's as quiet as can be, father! It must be what Miss Beecher called
the 'chivalry of horses'!"

"It's the chivalry that has to develop under petticoat government!"
retorted Mr. Gartney.

At this moment Faith's blue flag waved vehemently over her head. She had
caught the jingle of bells, and perceived a sleigh, with a man in it,
come out into the crossing at the foot of Garland Lane. The man descried
the signal and the disaster, and the sleigh stopped. Alighting, he led
his horse to the fence, fastened him there, and turning aside into the
steep, narrow, unbroken road, began a vigorous struggle through the
drifts to reach the wreck.

Coming nearer, he discerned and recognized Mr. Gartney, who also, at the
same moment, was aware of him. It was Mr. Armstrong.

"Keep still a minute longer, Faith," said her father, lifting the
remaining shaft against the dasher, and trying to push the sleigh back,
away from the animal. But this, alone, he was unable to accomplish. So
the minister came up, and found Faith still seated on the horse's head.

"Miss Gartney! Let me hold him!" cried he.

"I'm quite comfortable!" laughed Faith. "If you would just help my
father, please!"

The sleigh was drawn back by the combined efforts of the two gentl