don't
rock so hard, please,' when he grew excited and set me off at first rate
speed. And then Charlie used to say, 'You must not say that, Judy; you
ought to say, Pray lessen your speed, gallant knight, your war charger
is so fleet!' and Julia would say so, and all went smoothly enough till
Charlie went off again full pelt, and then the whole thing was gone over
again. But one day, one warm summer evening, Charlie was a little more
wild than usual, and forgetting what he was about, he rocked too
furiously, and down we all came together. It did not much matter to
Charlie and me, for it was neither our second nor third tumble, and he
used only to jump up again, and rush to see whether I was damaged,
before he looked at his own bruised knees, and say, 'That was a horrid
spill, old boy, but never mind, we haven't damaged _your_ knees,
anyhow!'

"But this time it was a more serious case, and I lay uncared for, while
Charlie scrambled hastily up, and, like a brave boy, looked first after
his poor little playmate. She was more hurt than either, and lay moaning
piteously, till Charlie ran in a fright and fetched his mother. When the
doctor came, as he did pretty quickly, he said poor Julia's little fat
arm was broken, and she could not be removed, even home. Oh, what a sad
time that was; the whole household seemed to watch night and day over
the little patient sufferer, and poor Charlie roamed about in a
miserable and distracted way that was quite sad to see. She was
delirious and in some danger for a time; and while it lasted Charlie
came and sat by me and told me all his sorrow in the most disconsolate
way in the world.

"'You've broken _your_ leg, gallant grey,' he said to me; 'but then the
carpenter can mend that with no great ado, and _I've_ sprained my ancle,
but that's nothing, for it does not hurt much, and I can easily bear
that; but I wish we had both broken all our legs, before dear little
Julia had been hurt. I'm afraid I shall never be a good knight now!'

"And then he laid his head on his knees, and actually cried bitterly.
But all turned out better in the end, for the doctor cured Julia, and
when the patient little girl grew better, all her care was to comfort
Charlie, and she left her own mother (who had come to nurse her), no
peace until she had formally forgiven Charlie. But poor contrite Charlie
could not so readily forgive himself, and as a proof of his real wish to
cure himself of his careless habits, h