r Green tell Johnnie to turn me and you into the pasture
to-morrow," he told Ebenezer.

"Don't you mean 'you and me'?" Ebenezer suggested mildly.

"Well, it's the same thing, isn't it?" Twinkleheels retorted.

"There's a slight difference," said Ebenezer. "I see there are some
things you've never been taught. Colts were different when I was a
yearling."

Twinkleheels looked almost angry.

"I hope," he snapped, "you don't take me for a yearling. Just because
I'm a pony--and small--you needn't think I'm an infant. Why, I'm five
years old!"

Old Ebenezer yawned. It seemed as if he was always sleepy.

"You've a good deal to learn," he said. "When I was five I thought I
knew everything.... I still find that I can learn something almost every
day."

Twinkleheels sniffed. "I don't believe you've picked up much that was
new to-day," he said. "You've been dozing every moment, except when you
ate your meals."

To his great disgust, Ebenezer gave a sort of snort. He no longer heard
anything that his youthful neighbor said.

"I'll see that he learns something in the pasture to-morrow,"
Twinkleheels promised himself. "I'll get him to race with me--if he can
stay awake long enough. And I'll show him such a burst of speed as he's
never seen in all his twenty years."

IX

THE RACE

When Johnnie Green turned Twinkleheels and the old horse Ebenezer into
the pasture, the first thing they did was to drop down on the grass and
enjoy a good roll.

There was a vast difference in their actions. Twinkleheels was as spry
as a squirrel. He rolled from one side to the other and back again,
jumped up and shook himself like old dog Spot, almost before Ebenezer
had picked out a nice, smooth place to roll on.

Ebenezer bent his legs beneath him in a gingerly fashion and sank with
something like a sigh upon the green, grassy carpet. It was only with a
great effort that he managed at last to roll all the way over; and then
he couldn't roll back again. Clumsily he flung his fore feet in front of
himself and by a mighty heave pulled himself off the ground.

"Slow, isn't he?" Twinkleheels remarked to the Muley Cow, who was
chewing her cud and looking on.

"He doesn't get up the right way," said the Muley Cow. "When rising from
the ground one should stand on his hind feet first."

"I don't agree with you," Twinkleheels told her. "Ebenezer uses the
right method. But he's terribly poky about it. You can almost hear his
joints