her curls, and said he hoped _he_ should be able to take better
care of her when he was bigger, 'better than I _have_ done, Ju,' he
added, somewhat dolefully; 'I shall not forget that spill with Gallant
Grey in a hurry. What a jolly horse he was too, and how delighted I was
when Papa let me choose him at that lovely shop in London, where they
sell nothing but horses, and a little girl sits and rocks on one in the
window, you know. Poor old Gallant Grey, I wonder how he's getting on,
and whether Phil Reeves has had as many spills as I have. But halloa,
Ju, here's a queer thing! why, if there is not a rocking-horse in that
little garden!'

"As Bonnie Prince Charlie and his little princess stood hand-in-hand at
the gate and peeped at me with surprise through the rails, I could have
eaten my head with vexation to think I could not even neigh a "how d'ye
do?" to them.

"'My eyes,' said Charlie, as he slowly turned away, 'what an old nag
_that_ is! not a bad made animal, but what a colour, and what spots!
What can he be? Perhaps they're going to have Guy Faux on horseback, and
are getting ready the steed!'

"And off went Charlie and Julia, and I could hear their merry voices
ringing with laughter, for a long way down the lane. If it had only been
in my nature to cry, I should have shed red hot tears of vexation,
enough to burn up the little grass plat I stood on. I never saw Charlie
and Julia again, and lived for a long while a sort of humdrum existence
with Bill Soames. But life seemed very flat after that sad
mortification, and I never went on the little grass plat again without
remembering it. And time passed on, and when Bill grew bigger and went
out to work, he gave me away to another chum, who was a horrid sailor
boy, and had no more notion of riding than a teaspoon. He soon grew
tired of me, and passed me on to some one else. And so have I served
many masters, and have in my time been kept in some very queer stables.
But I never cared for any of my subsequent owners so much as I did for
Charlie, and Bill Soames, for they were all dull, uninteresting boys,
who treated me as a mere toy, and cared less for me than a top or a
kite.

"When I came to Harry Spenser, however, I began to think I was going to
have a sort of second life, and be happy once more. The first thing that
made me take to him was that he saved up his pocket money till he could
afford to have me re-painted. I was now a bright bay, with a white star