ure, they're young things!" he used to say. "Let them enjoy themselves
now, for they'll be older before they're younger!" Which was a very
sensible remark.

"Tomty!" said Brighteyes.

"Yes, miss."

"I want to go into the barn-yard again to see Jose."

"And that is just where I am going, miss," said Tomty; "so if you will
sit in the wheelbarrow, I'll give you a ride!" so Brighteyes jumped into
the wheelbarrow and was wheeled off in fine style.

"Do you know who invented the wheelbarrow, Tomty?" she asked as they
went along.

"Yes miss," replied Tomty. "Hiram Deluce made this one, miss."

"I don't mean this one," said Brighteyes. "I mean the first one that
ever was made. It was a great painter, one of the greatest painters that
ever lived, only I can't remember his name. Uncle Jack told me about
him."

"Yes Miss!" said Tomty. "More likely a _car_-painter, Miss. I don't know
what a painter would want of a barrow, unless to paint it, and that's
soon done."

A car-painter! Brighteyes thought that was very funny, and she thought
Tomty was very clever.

But now they were in the barn-yard, and she straightway forgot about
wheel-barrows and painters, for Jose, the little brown donkey, was
loose, and was trying with might and main to open the further gate of
the yard, a trick of which he was extremely fond, and in which he
certainly excelled.

"Oh! Tomty," cried Brighteyes, "shut the gate, and let us catch Jose.
Naughty donkey, how did you get out? Come here, good Jose! come here,
poor fellow!" But Jose (that is a Spanish name, by the way, and is
pronounced Hosay,) had no idea of going there.

[Illustration: JOSE OPENING THE GATE.]

"I wont!" he said. "I wo-_hon't_! go away-_hay!_" and up went his heels,
higher than ever. It must be very provoking to animals to have human
beings pay absolutely no attention to their remarks. Really, it is so
stupid sometimes. There was Jose, speaking quite distinctly for a
donkey, and Brighteyes only clapped her hands to her ears and cried "Oh!
what a dreadful bray!" and in the barn, meanwhile, Pollux, the off
horse, was saying to John, over and over again, "I don't like this
stall, John! please give me another. And do loosen this strap a little,
for it makes my head ache." To which John replied, "So, boy! quiet now!"
which must have been extremely aggravating.

Why, I saw a little girl once,--a little German girl she was, named
Hannchen,--sit for half an hour listening with gre