Part 66 (1/2)

”Jewel, Jewel, child!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed her grandfather, much dismayed. ”Come, come, what's this?”

He drew her with a strong hand, and she deserted the pony, much to the latter's relief, and clasping Mr. Evringham as high up as she could reach, began bedewing his vest b.u.t.tons with her tears.

”Oh, gra--grandpa, I c--can't have him!” she sobbed. ”There isn't any roo--room for him in our--our fla--fla--flat!”

”Well, did you expect to keep him in the flat?” inquired Mr. Evringham, stooping tenderly, his own eyes s.h.i.+ning suspiciously, as he put his arms around the little shaking form.

”N--no; but we--we haven't any bar--barn.”

The broker smiled above the voluminous, quivering bows.

”Well, hasn't some good livery man in your neighborhood a stable?”

”Ye--yes.” Jewel made greater efforts to stop crying. ”But I--I talked with mo--mother once about cou--could I ha--have a horse sometime before I grew up, and she said she might buy the horse, but it would cost so much--much money every week to board it, it would be error.”

Mr. Evringham patted the heaving shoulder.

”Ah, but you don't know yet all about your horse. In some respects I've never seen a pony like him.”

”I--I never have,” returned the child.

”Oh, but you'll be surprised at _this_. This pony has a bank account.”

Jewel slowly grew quiet.

”n.o.body has to pay for _his_ board and clothes. He is very independent.

He would have it that way.”

”Grandpa!” came in m.u.f.fled tones from the broker's vest.

”So don't you think you'd better cheer up and look at him once more, and tell him you won't cry on his shoulder very often?”

In a minute Jewel looked up, revealing her swollen eyes. ”I'm ashamed,”

she said softly, ”but he was--so--be--_autiful_--I forgot to remember.”

”Well, I guess you did forget to remember,” returned Mr. Evringham, shaking his head and leading the child to her pony's side.

He lifted her into the saddle and arranged her skirt, brus.h.i.+ng away the dust.

”Grandpa!” she exclaimed softly, with a long, quivering sigh, ”I'm so _happy_!”

”Have you ever ridden, Jewel?”

”Oh, yes, a thousand times,” she answered quickly; ”but not on a real horse,” she added as an afterthought.

”H'm. That might make a difference.” Mr. Evringham loosed the pony and put the white bridle in the child's hands; then he led the pretty creature down the woodland road.

”I'm _so_ happy,” repeated Jewel. ”What will mother and father say!”