saddle,
rode off on this pretty little pony, and pretty soon, not so very far,
they came to the place where the little men were at work. And what do
you suppose they were doing. Why, you'd never guess if I gave you
until the 4th of July.

They were making maple sugar out of the sap from the maple trees.
First they boiled the sap in great big pots and then put it away to
cool in queer little dishes of various shapes, and when the sugar
hardened it was in the forms of funny little fish, queer little houses,
strange animals, and, goodness knows, what not.

"Oh, we are the Sugar Candy Men,
And we work all day in the snow
To make the maple sugar cakes
To sell in the town below,"

sang one little man who wore a red peaked hat and long turned-up
pointed shoes.

But when little Mary Louise rode up, they all stopped their work and
looked at her, and the little man with the long turned up pointed shoes
pulled off his red peaked cap and asked:

"What brings you here, Mary Louise? Are you fond of maple sugar candy?"

"I know lots of little boys and girls who are," answered Mary Louise
with a smile.

"Well, hold open your pockets," said the little man, and he stood up on
a stump alongside Dapple Gray and filled her pockets to overflowing.
Wasn't that nice of him?

"You're very generous," said Mary Louise. "What can I do for you?"

"Go to yonder town and tell the dear old lady who keeps the 'Goody
Sweet Tooth-Shop' that we will bring her candy tomorrow morning just
as--

"The little red rooster
From his home on the hill
Sounds his merry cock-a-doo
Like a whistle shrill."

"All right," answered Mary Louise, and off she went to the little town
down in the valley.

Well, by and by, after a while, and many a mile, and a song and a
smile, for Mary Louise felt very happy with all those nice candies in
her pocket, she came to a bridge over a river, on the other side of
which nestled a little town among the trees.

Now there was a toll keeper, a funny little old lady with a crutch
under her arm, at the entrance to the bridge.

"Give me a penny, Mary Louise,
For that is the toll you must pay,
If you would cross over the river to Dover,
Dover, just over the way."

sang the little old lady toll keeper.

"Here is the penny," laughed Mary Louise, leaning down from Dapple Gray
and dropping it into the old lady's apron, which she help up in both
hands.

"Pass on, little girl," she