The Tale of Pony Twinkleheels Part 10

Poor Twinkleheels felt most unhappy. "Haven't I said I'd like to walk on the tread mill?" Twinkleheels cried. "But Farmer Green would never allow me to."

"We don't care to argue with you," said the bay who stood beside Ebenezer. "You are altogether too small for us to bother with any longer."

"If I'm so small, then I shouldn't think what few oats I eat would annoy you," said Twinkleheels.

"Oh, your appet.i.te's big enough!" cried the other bay. "You're always eating something. Yesterday we saw Johnnie Green ride you up to the kitchen window where Mrs. Green was peeling potatoes. And she gave you a potato. And you ate it."

"People are always feeding you," echoed the bay's bay mate.

"How can I help that?" Twinkleheels asked them.

"You could decline with thanks," they explained.

Twinkleheels shook his head.

"It wouldn't be polite," he said. "Besides, I like potatoes and apples and carrots even more than oats and hay."

Just then Farmer Green came into the barn and backed the bays out of their stalls. They both sighed.

"We're in for it now," they told Ebenezer. "He's going to take us out and make us walk on the tread mill."

A little later Johnnie Green saddled Twinkleheels and followed his father and the bays to the field where the thras.h.i.+ng machine stood beside several stacks of oats.

Before Johnnie and Twinkleheels arrived on the scene a great clatter warned them that thras.h.i.+ng had already begun. Hurrying up, they found the bays toiling up the endless path that slid always downward beneath them.

The bays were a glum appearing pair. Twinkleheels tried to speak to them, but the thras.h.i.+ng machine made such a racket that they couldn't hear him whinny; and he couldn't catch their eyes. They wouldn't look at him.

A stream of oats was pouring out of the grain spout. Johnnie Green dismounted. Picking up a handful of the newly thrashed oats, he fed Twinkleheels.

The bays looked at Twinkleheels then. They looked at him with envy.

"That pony has begun to eat up the new oats already," said one of the bays to his mate. "I hoped he'd have the decency to decline them when Johnnie Green offered him a taste."

"Not he!" groaned his mate. "That pony even hinted to Johnnie Green that he'd like some oats. I saw him hint, out of the corner of my eye."

"Ah!" cried the other bay. "Twinkleheels not only has a mealy nose. He's mealy-mouthed as well!"

XXI

JUMPING MUD PUDDLES

Johnnie Green had often ridden bareback. Lacking a pony, before Twinkleheels came to the farm to live, he had ridden the old horse Ebenezer back and forth between the barn and the pasture, guiding him by his halter rope.

Ebenezer was a steady old fellow. He never jumped nor s.h.i.+ed. He preferred walking to any other gait. Without a whip Johnnie Green had hard work to make him trot. It took a great deal of drumming against his ribs by Johnnie Green's heels to induce him to hurry his steps.

Twinkleheels was different from Ebenezer. He was frisky. Yet Johnnie sometimes put a bridle on him and rode him without a saddle. Especially after the circus men came along and pasted posters on the barn Johnnie Green liked to ride bareback. He had a notion that some day he would learn to ride standing on Twinkleheels' back.

Farmer Green, however, did not approve of that plan. When Johnnie mentioned it to him he said "No!" in a most decided fas.h.i.+on. "That pony would be sure to throw you," he told Johnnie.

"I could try standing on Ebenezer first," Johnnie suggested. "His back is broader. And he certainly wouldn't object."

Somehow his father didn't care for that scheme either. "We don't want any broken legs around here," he declared, "nor necks, either. Broken necks are very slow to mend."

So Johnnie Green had to give up his plan, for the time being. He made up his mind, however, that when he was grown up he would learn to ride standing up--and turn somersaults in the air off a horse's back. But now he knew that he must content himself with less risky sports.

Something happened one day that caused Johnnie to admit to himself the wisdom of his father's advice. He was riding Twinkleheels along the road, bareback, after a heavy rain. And the first thing that Johnnie knew he was sitting almost on Twinkleheels' tail. Instead of splas.h.i.+ng through a big mud puddle, Twinkleheels had taken it into his head to jump it.

His leap took his rider unawares. Johnnie had slipped to the rear as if Twinkleheels' back had been greased. And if he hadn't clutched the bridle reins he would have dropped off into the very middle of the puddle.

After that Johnnie kept a sharp eye out for mud puddles. When he knew that Twinkleheels was going to jump one he had no trouble in sticking to his seat.

Soon Johnnie decided once more that it would be easy to learn to be a circus rider. Certainly it was no trick at all to sit on Twinkleheels'

bare back so long as he knew what the pony was going to do. It was as easy as walking a tight rope. And that was a feat that Johnnie Green had already mastered.

He only broke a collar bone learning that.

XXII

THE CIRCUS RIDER

The next afternoon, when Johnnie went to the pasture with old dog Spot to drive the cows home, he climbed a tree--not that climbing a tree helped in any way to get the cows into the lane!

Just for the moment Johnnie was a sailor--in his mind's eye. He went up aloft to watch for a desert island, where pirate gold was hidden. And circus riding would never have entered his head had not Twinkleheels, who had been grazing in the pasture, come and stood under the tree into which his young master had climbed.

When Johnnie came down out of the rigging of his s.h.i.+p--or when he slipped down through the branches of the tree--Twinkleheels stood just beneath the lowest limb. Johnnie Green swung off it, hung by his arms for a moment, and then dropped astride of Twinkleheels' back.

It may have been because old dog Spot let out a delighted yelp at that instant. It may have been that Twinkleheels hadn't expected Johnnie to mount him in that unusual fas.h.i.+on. Anyhow, he gave one jump and then stood up on his hind legs.

Johnnie Green didn't even have time to grab at Twinkleheels' mane. He slid off Twinkleheels' back and struck the ground with a dull thud.

For a few moments he lay there, unable to breathe. Then he struggled to his feet and ran round and round in a circle, doubled up and groaning.

There was a strange, strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. He feared he would never be able to get his breath again.

Twinkleheels paid no heed to him, but nibbled at choice clumps of gra.s.s and clover quite as if nothing had happened.

Old dog Spot, however, seemed to think that Johnnie Green was having a good time and enjoying himself thoroughly. Spot capered about him, barking furiously.

"Don't!" Johnnie managed to gasp. "Don't laugh, Spot! I'm terribly hurt.

I don't believe I'll ever get well again."

But in a few moments he succeeded in drawing a long, deep breath. He lay down upon the ground then and drew another and another and another.