lways slept with a pair of diamond earrings
worth a small fortune in her ears. It is things like these that show
true gentility.

Though they had been married many years, the A. de M. Smythers had but
one child--a son and heir. No Christmas Day was allowed to pass by his
doting parents without a gift to young Algy of some trifle worth about
150 pounds, less the discount for cash. He had six play-rooms, all
filled with the most expensive toys and ingenious mechanical devices.
He had a phonograph that could hail a ship out at the South Head, and a
mechanical parrot that sang "The Wearing of the Green". And still he was
not happy.

Sometimes, in spite of the vigilance of his four nurses and six
under-nurses, he would escape into the street, and run about with the
little boys he met there. One day he gave one of them a sovereign for
a locust. Certainly the locust was a "double-drummer", and could deafen
the German Band when shaken up judiciously; still, it was dear at a
sovereign.

It is ever thus.

What we have we do not value, and what other people have we are not
strong enough to take from them.

Such is life.

Christmas was approaching, and the question of Algy's Christmas present
agitated the bosom of his parents. He already had nearly everything a
child could want; but one morning a bright inspiration struck Algy's
father. Algy should have a pony.

With Mr. Smythers to think was to act. He was not a man who believed
in allowing grass to grow under his feet. His motto was, "Up and be
doing--somebody." So he put an advertisement in the paper that same day.

"Wanted, a boy's pony. Must be guaranteed sound, strong, handsome,
intelligent. Used to trains, trams, motors, fire engines, and motor
'buses. Any failure in above respects will disqualify. Certificate of
birth required as well as references from last place. Price no object."

Chapter II.--BLINKY BILL'S SACRIFICE

Down in a poverty-stricken part of the city lived Blinky Bill, the
horse-dealer.

His yard was surrounded by loose-boxes made of any old timber,
galvanized iron, sheets of roofing-felt, and bark he could gather
together.

He kept all sorts of horses, except good sorts. There were harness
horses, that wouldn't pull, and saddle horses that wouldn't go--or, if
they went, used to fall down. Nearly every animal about the place had
something the matter with it.

When the bailiff dropped in, as he did every two or three weeks, Bill
and h