much obliged he was
to him for it, and what a good man he was, and what a lovely pony the
pony was, that his father could hardly get him still enough to sit in
the saddle.

However, he quieted down after a while, and his father put him on the
pony's back, and shortened the stirrups so that they should be the
right length for him, and put the reins in his hands. Now he was all
ready for a ride, and Arthur wanted to gallop away.

"No, no!" said his father, "you cannot do that. You do not know how to
ride yet. At first your pony must walk."

So Arthur's father took hold of the pony's bridle and led him along the
carriage-way in front of the house, and as the little boy rode off,
sitting up straight in the saddle, and holding proudly to the reins,
his mother and his aunt and his sister Laura clapped their hands, and
cheered him; and this made Arthur feel prouder than ever.

He had a good long ride, up and down, and up and down, and the next day
his father took him out again, and taught him how to sit and how to
guide his pony.

In a week or two Arthur could ride by himself, even when the pony was
trotting gently; and before long he rode all over the grounds, trotting
or cantering or walking, just as he pleased.

The pony was a very gentle, quiet creature, and Arthur's father felt
quite willing to trust his little boy to ride about on him, provided he
did not go far from home.

Only once was there any trouble on the pony's account. As Arthur was
riding in a field, one afternoon, there came along a party of
gentlemen, who were hunting a fox. When they galloped away, over the
smooth grass, Arthur whipped up his pony, and went after them as fast
as he could go.

He went on and on, trying to keep up with the hunters, but he was soon
left behind, for his pony could not gallop half as fast as the large,
strong horses of the hunters.

Then he turned to come back, but he got into the wrong field, and soon
found that he did not know the way home.

Arthur began to be very much frightened, for the sun was setting, and
he could see no one of whom he could ask his way home. He first turned
his pony this way and then that way, but the little horse was now
hungry and tired, and he would not turn as Arthur wanted him to.

Then the pony resolutely started off and trotted along, paying no
attention to Arthur's pulls and tugs, and did not stop until he had
trotted right up to the door of Arthur's home.

You see, he knew the wa