Beside the roadway stood a horse and pony, both bridled
and saddled.
The swift feet of the Boy flew across the opening, the sister wide-eyed
and trembling, close on his heels. He threw his arms around the pony's
neck and stroked his head with gentle touch. The pony pressed his mouth
against the Boy's cheek in friendly response.
"Did you see him kiss me, Polly?" he cried tremblingly.
"Yes, I saw him," was the solemn response.
"Isn't he a beauty? Look, Polly--he's got a white spot on every foot and
one in his forehead and black as a coal all over--and Oh--what a
saddle--a red belt and red martingales!"
He touched the saddle lovingly and circled the pony's neck with his
arms.
The brother smiled again:
"Well, what do you think of that?"
The Boy was trembling now from head to foot, his heart in his throat as
he slowly asked:
"You mean that--you'll--give--him--to me--for--all my own?"
"If you'll be a good boy, go to school and work hard--yes."
"All right, Big Brother," was the quick answer, "I'll go. Help me on him
quick, and let me try him!"
The Boy lifted his bare foot into the strong hand, sprang into the
saddle, bounded down the road, wheeled, flew back and leaped to the
ground.
"He's a dandy!"
Polly dropped her head and started home, making a brave fight to keep
back the tears.
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