h a
single pillow, showing at once a privileged member of the family; near
its head an ancient wash-stand and a tin wash-basin, and by its side a
pail of water, with a tin dipper reposing quietly on its surface.
Nothing unnecessary, everything useful. By the window stands a square
pine table, spotted and streaked with ink, to match the floor, which
resembles in a homely way MARK TWAIN'S map of Paris on an enlarged
scale. Before that table, his head resting on his hands, his eyes
glaring on the paper, sits the immortal Bard whose lightest words were
to be remembered long after his name was forgotten.

The first in order of events in the journey to the Market Town. The
arrangements have all been made. He and TOM are to ride the horse, while
his mother and DICK ride the mare. There is no use telling the world all
the particulars, so he simply writes:--

"Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross."

He doesn't care to mention that two intend to ride the cock horse. If
the world chooses to think only one rides him, let them think so. He
will write ambiguously if he wants to; there is no law to prevent him
from doing so.

"Now what is to be seen after getting there? His mother said a beautiful
lady on horseback, and splendid music. But that cannot be. What! a
beautiful young lady ride in public on horseback? She wouldn't do such a
thing. He knows too much for that. It must be some old woman; and he
writes accordingly:--

"To see an old woman ride on a white horse."

She is to be gayly dressed, he has heard, and loaded with diamond rings;
but how about the music? Probably she has bells on her toes; at least he
will put it so, and then adds;--

"Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes."

He thinks awhile longer. He sees in imagination the venerable old dame
riding around on the white horse, gayly dressed and bespangled, the
rings glistening, the bells ringing, and his sensitive soul fancies it
hears the wonderful music, and he knows that ever and ever, so long as
she rides,

"She will have music wherever she goes."

He has become enraptured with the glowing vision, and now, as he lays
down his pen his eyes flash and his cheeks burn with poetic fire. How
happy his mother will be to hear the result of his afternoon's labor!
Rejoicing he descends, taking with him the precious verse, and proudly
begins to read it to his appreciative audience. Falteringly he
commences, but, warming with the subject, his spir