It does one's heart good
just to see how the little fellow enjoys his brother's sport."

Back of the house where he lived there was a barn. His papa did not keep
a horse in it, but one day, after some months, a gentleman came to pass
a few days at the cottage, and his horse was put up in the barn. One
pleasant evening, when papa, and mamma, and their friends were walking
in the garden, the gentleman said he would lead his horse down to the
pond, and give him some water to drink, and he invited Willie to ride
upon the horse's back. Willie's papa helped him on, and he held fast by
the horse's mane. When he came back, Frankie wanted to ride too. Mamma
was afraid he would fall; but the gentleman said the horse was gentle,
and papa said he would hold him very tightly.

So Frankie mounted the horse, and took his first lesson in riding. Papa
was going to walk about the grounds, but the little boy said, "Pony
want water gen, papa; pony must have more water."

Frankie had never been to the pond before. First they had to cross the
road, then go through the rail fence into the field. The gentleman let
down two bars, and the horse carefully stepped over the other. Then papa
held his baby very tight, because they were going down a steep place
into the water. The gentleman thought pony would not drink again; but he
did, and Frankie leaned over, and saw him suck up great mouthfuls of
water. Then they turned back, and went out of the field, papa holding
the horse, while the gentleman put up the bars again.

Mamma was very glad to get her boy safely home. She had been anxious all
the time, for fear he would fall and hurt himself, though papa laughed,
and told her there was no danger. She had kept Ponto near her, for fear
he would bark and frighten the strange horse. But the moment Frankie was
taken off, he flew up to him, and licked his face and hands, and tried
to spring on his neck, he was so glad to see him.

I don't know what Frankie would have done without Ponto. Willie and
Margie were at school; and there were a great many hours when he would
have had to play alone. But Ponto was always ready for a frolic. He was
never tired or out of humor, though sometimes he was rather too rough;
and then he loved his young master so much, that he wanted to kiss him
oftener than Frankie liked.

Early in the summer, papa had bought a wheelbarrow for his boy to roll
in the yard. It was painted red, and on the sides were pretty pictures
pai