"I was purchased at the "Civet Cat," in Brompton, by little Augusta Finekyn, as a present for her brother Fred on his approaching birthday, and as I cost the large sum of fourpence, she had saved a month's pocket money for the purpose. She intended to keep me as a profound secret until the auspicious day; but her plan was really defeated by several unlucky mishaps. First of all, she dropped me in the middle of a crowded crossing, and was very nearly run over by an omnibus in her search for me, and only rescued by the old crossing sweeper. The paper in which I had been wrapped was so saturated with mud, that she was obliged to take it off and wrap me in a corner of her pocket handkerchief. When she arrived at home she took off her things, forgetting me in her hurry, and ran down to dinner. During that meal, having occasion to want her handkerchief she drew it out of her pocket and me with it, sending me rolling among the dishes and plates, to her great dismay. However, Freddy was good-natured, and did not wish to vex his little sister, and so he pretended not to see me. Three days intervened before the birthday, and incessantly during that time did luckless Augusta contrive to drop me about in the oddest places, putting Fred's gravity and good humour to the sorest test possible, and I think both were equally relieved when the day arrived at last, and she was able to present it in due form. Fred had plenty of marbles of a better kind and more suitable for playing, but he did not vex his affectionate little sister by telling her so. For a long time I was kept in his desk with a funny jumble of other odds and ends not often wanted, but never exposed to view, for poor Fred on first returning to school had innocently exhibited me as an agate marble, fully believing I really was so. But a more knowing boy, the son of a working jeweller who was on the same form with him, soon undeceived him, and from that time, with natural disgust at having been "so green," as his schoolfellow said, Fred carefully buried me in the recesses of his desk, and showed me no more.
"When he left school I went back among his other valuables, and was buried for many years in his old play-box. But one day I was rummaged out with a host of other antiquated things and laid on the table. A very smart young lady in a gay muslin dress, plentifully be-dropped with knots of ribbon, seemed to be "tidying up" as she called it; a process that appeared to me to consist in routing out and clearing away all the old hoards, and making the room as bare as an empty shop.
"'Oh dear,' she laughed, as I tumbled out with the rest of the boyish treasures; 'here's that wretched old marble, which was not agate after all. The little horror! Here, Jane, give it to Cook; she wanted a marble the other day to put into her tea-kettle, and this will be just the thing for her.'
"And so I was consigned to Cook, and for many months continued to roll and rattle about in the bottom of her horrid old black tea-kettle, accumulating all the disagreeable "fur," as she called it, that is generally found lining the inside of a kettle where the water in use is very hard. My pretty streaks and spots soon disappeared beneath this dreadful covering, and no one now – not even Fred Finekyn himself – (far less the airyfied young lady, into whom my early admirer, Augusta, had merged), would have recognised the gay and polished marble in the rough, stony-looking lump that made such a dull clatter in the kettle.
"But all things come to an end, even long captivities, and so one happy day saw me, still an inhabitant of the old kettle, sold at the sale, which took place when the Finekyns went "abroad." After this I resided for some time at a marine store-shop, and there my house and I parted company, and I was sent once more into the world as a marble, for the kettle was sold elsewhere, and I was dropped out during the examination of the old woman purchaser. When I was picked up, the shopman soon finding out that I was worth looking at, cleaned me, and restored me to a faint likeness of my former show, and sold me for the reduced price of twopence to an eager school boy. After a good many vicissitudes and changes, I came into Frank Spenser's possession, and became, with the rest, an inmate of the toy-cupboard."
The Ball, spying another little marble rolling forward as if to speak, returned thanks to them for their three stories, and called on the Rocking-Horse to be the next entertainer.
CHAPTER XI.
WHY THE ROCKING HORSE RAN AWAY
"I could tell you lots of stories," said the Rocking Horse, stumbling and limping forward, as lightly as he could with his mutilated members, "for I have really seen so much of life, and have had so many little riders in turn. There was my first owner, dear bright golden-haired Charlie, "Bonnie Prince Charlie," as he was called by all, with his bright smile, and sunny eyes, and his musical laugh. He was going to be a knight-errant, and ride about all over the country, rescuing distressed damsels, and setting captives free, and fighting at least ten people at once! There was a pretty little girl, who used to come sometimes to spend the day with his sisters, and Charlie was very fond of her, calling her his princess. Little Julia was a nice child, and was never better pleased than when she was mounted on me behind Charley, with her fat arms clasped tight round his waist. The stories that boy used to invent, surpassed anything I ever heard before or since; I am sure he must have read a good deal, and remembered it all too, to be able to describe the things he did. And Julia used to cuddle up to him, and say what he bid her, for she was a sweet, docile little thing, but she did not understand a tenth part of what he told her, and she used to get so frightened, and cling so tight, and call out 'O Charlie, don't rock so hard, please,' when he grew excited and set me off at first rate speed. And then Charlie used to say, 'You must not say that, Judy; you ought to say, Pray lessen your speed, gallant knight, your war charger is so fleet!' and Julia would say so, and all went smoothly enough till Charlie went off again full pelt, and then the whole thing was gone over again. But one day, one warm summer evening, Charlie was a little more wild than usual, and forgetting what he was about, he rocked too furiously, and down we all came together. It did not much matter to Charlie and me, for it was neither our second nor third tumble, and he used only to jump up again, and rush to see whether I was damaged, before he looked at his own bruised knees, and say, 'That was a horrid spill, old boy, but never mind, we haven't damaged your knees, anyhow!'
"But this time it was a more serious case, and I lay uncared for, while Charlie scrambled hastily up, and, like a brave boy, looked first after his poor little playmate. She was more hurt than either, and lay moaning piteously, till Charlie ran in a fright and fetched his mother. When the doctor came, as he did pretty quickly, he said poor Julia's little fat arm was broken, and she could not be removed, even home. Oh, what a sad time that was; the whole household seemed to watch night and day over the little patient sufferer, and poor Charlie roamed about in a miserable and distracted way that was quite sad to see. She was delirious and in some danger for a time; and while it lasted Charlie came and sat by me and told me all his sorrow in the most disconsolate way in the world.
"'You've broken your leg, gallant grey,' he said to me; 'but then the carpenter can mend that with no great ado, and I've sprained my ancle, but that's nothing, for it does not hurt much, and I can easily bear that; but I wish we had both broken all our legs, before dear little Julia had been hurt. I'm afraid I shall never be a good knight now!'
"And then he laid his head on his knees, and actually cried bitterly. But all turned out better in the end, for the doctor cured Julia, and when the patient little girl grew better, all her care was to comfort Charlie, and she left her own mother (who had come to nurse her), no peace until she had formally forgiven Charlie. But poor contrite Charlie could not so readily forgive himself, and as a proof of his real wish to cure himself of his careless habits, he gave me away to Philip Reeves, an old friend of his, taking tender care to have me effectually mended up, and bidding me a most affectionate farewell. I did not like my new home very much, for though I had carried double before, little Julia was a mere feather weight, and Charlie rode very lightly; but the Reeves's children mounted me two and three at a time played rude, practical jokes and treated me with all sorts of indignities. Once the little wretches actually set Tom on me with his face to my tail, and then called me a donkey, and shouted out, 'Gee up, Neddy!' And as for falls, we were always tumbling about, – my entire occupation was tumbling about. They dragged off all my pretty harness in tatters, by way of hauling me up again, and then replaced it with a horrid lot of common rope. As for my tail, oh, that was too bad! That abominable little Annie, the baby, got hold of me after one of my falls, and by the help of nurse's scissors, which had been dropped just by, she managed to shear all the hair off close to the stump, and disfigured me for life. Then another of my legs was broken, past mending. And so I lost all my good looks by degrees. To finish my troubles, the two younger boys took it into their heads that I wanted rubbing down, and they set to work with a vengeance, with the help of the nursery bath and a hard hair brush, and by the time they were found out, the nursery was swimming, and my poor complexion gone for ever!
"No one could stand that, and patience won't last for ever, so you cannot be surprised at my running away, and I think I managed my escape pretty luckily. One Saturday night, when the workwoman was there, her son came to fetch her home, and she somehow smuggled him into the empty nursery to wait until she was ready to go home with him. The children had all been put in their bath, and packed off early to bed, and Susan, the nursemaid, had run downstairs for a few minutes' gossip in the kitchen. Bob, the boy, began to eye me with great attention, and at last he drew near and began to play with me. His mother went to put on her bonnet and shawl, and Bob seized the opportunity.
"'You be a tidy pony!' said he, 'will you go along with me?'
"As I made no objection, and indeed was glad to go, he whipped me up in his arms, ran down the back stairs and off with me like a shot. I was in a dreadful fright for fear we should be found out, I can tell you, for there was a wretched small woolly toy-dog, an old enemy of mine, and the little horror barked with all his might, and tried to give the alarm. But luckily for me, little Annie had that day poked a pin through the kid over his sound-hole, and so he had almost lost his voice, and was not heard at all. When I came to reflect on the matter calmly, I must own it was rather an undignified method of running away, but I was too anxious at the time to escape, and did not think much about it. Bob hurried down some back lanes and byeways till he reached his own door, and then he rushed in, and running upstairs, hid me under his bed. He was up in the morning long before his mother, and got me out into the back-yard, hiding me behind the old water-butt. Bob's mother happened to be that week very busy, and away every day, so that he easily kept me out of the way. There was a nice hue and cry at the Reeves's when the children found out I had vanished, and Bob's mother came home each day, giving him a full history of the loss, little suspecting he was concerned in it.
"But evil deeds seldom meet with thorough success, and so Bob found out, for a playfellow of his, it seems, had watched enough of his proceedings to find out that all was not right, and one day he attacked him on the subject. Bob was in a terrible fright, and at last made up his mind to take me back to the Reeves's again, hoping to smuggle me in after the same fashion he had brought me away. I was not much improved, as you may fancy, after being stabled so long behind that dirty tarred barrel. Indeed, I think the Reeves's children might almost have met me without recognising me. But they were not destined to be put to the trial, for just as Bob got near to the door, out sallied a whole tribe of the young ones, bound for a late walk. Bob beat a precipitate retreat, and pitched me headlong into a big laurel hedge, near the gate. As it proved afterwards, the children had not seen me, and so there I lay all night, when a drenching rain came down, and washed off all the paint I had left. I was now a poor wreck of a thing, and did not look as if I was of any value, and I was so out of heart and miserable, that I did not care what became of me. So when I was picked out of the hedge by Bill Soames, and carried to his cottage-home as a precious treasure, I was resigned to my fate. Horses, said I to myself, are peculiarly liable to these ups and downs of life, for, as we all know, the spirited racer that wins the Challenge Cup, may end his days harnessed to a cart. And so why should I lament my fate! I dare say, Bill Soames will be kind to me, and he looks as if he could ride. And so he could too, and many a prance we had on the brick floor of that old cottage, for in spite of my lame legs and docked tail, there was a little life and spirit left still in the poor old nag. And through all my life, I have been very lucky in one thing, my foundations were good! Let what would happen to my legs or tail, at any rate, my rockers never came off! So I could get on pretty fairly even now, and Bill was as proud of me as if I had been a real flesh and blood steed.
"Many and many a box on the ears did he get from his mother, for picking her lilac or her roses to stick in my ears; and the day when she gave him some old scraps of dirty ribbon was a joyous day for him. The only pity was that his wish to adorn me to the best advantage led him in a weak moment to accept the proposal of George Hall, the little painter, who offered to make me as good as new! I can't bear to think of it, much less describe that operation, and you may take my word for it I should have run away again, if I had not been tied up to the leg of the great wooden table. Bill remarked that he had seen the farrier singe and clip horses, and he always took good care to tie them up tight first. And so there I was at their mercy, and I came out of their hands such a figure, that I only wonder the nervous old cat, who lived there too, did not have a fit at the first sight of me. I had been painted black, with great white spots, just like big white wafers plentifully besprinkled all over me; and they had picked out my eyes and nose with such bright red borders, that it looked as if I breathed fire and flame, and I should have made a capital steed for the Fire-King in the pantomime. Bill was so delighted with me, that when I was dry and fit to be touched, he took more pains and care of me than ever. He stabled me in a corner, always offered me a share of his supper (but, as you may suppose, I don't eat bread and cheese), and covered me over from the dust with the counterpane of his own bed.
"So I was obliged to make the best of it, and bear my terrible disfigurement as well as I could, for the sake of the good, warm-hearted lad, who loved me so very dearly. And at last I got used to my new colour, and even the atrocious spots, for everybody round was always admiring me, and praising my beauty; and I began to think I was not so very bad after all, till one day, when the memory of all my reverses and troubles seemed to come back over me like a thunderbolt. I was standing out on the little green space before the cottage, in the sun, as I often did, for Bill was very fond of mounting and riding in the sight of all passers by. There was a low green quickset hedge dividing the cottage garden from the road, and a open wooden gate. I heard a voice say, 'I'll be shot if that ain't the very likeness of him. If he were only of a dirty white, and hadn't no spots, I'd say for certain it were he. There's a lump in his hind leg looks uncommon like the jine where he were broken!'
"Just at this moment, George Hall and Bill came out of the cottage door, and the speaker shuffled off rather fast, but not until I had managed to catch a glimpse of him, and had recognised my old friend Bob, with whom I had first eloped. And the very next day, when I was out as usual, who should come by but "Bonnie Prince Charlie," hand in hand with little Julia. I declare the few hairs of my mane and tail fairly stiffened at the sight of them, and I longed to be able to trot out like a fairy horse and ask them to get on my back, and let me carry them off to some delightful island, and make them a real prince and princess! Dear little Julia, she had not quite got back her nice rosy fat cheeks, but her eyes were as bright, and her merry voice as sweet as ever, as she prattled merrily to Charlie, who watched over her in the most careful way, guarding the poor lame arm quite jealously from harm. I heard them before I saw them, and knew their dear voices, bless them! in a moment.
"'You shall have a carriage and pair, Judy, at least,' said Charlie, 'and a gentle mare for riding on, with a long tail and flowing mane. And you will be able to plait them up with ribbons, as Camilla did, you know, for Black Auster.'
"'I would rather have a little Shetland pony,' said Julia, 'I'm so afraid of big horses, Charlie!'
"'Why a pony is the most dangerous of all, Julia,' replied Charley with a learned air; 'it is so much more frisky, and apt to run away. But we'll take care to have one that's warranted to carry a lady.'
"'But I'm not a real grown-up lady yet, am I?' said the innocent little girl, turning her blue wondering eyes full on Charlie, who she evidently thought the most wonderful hero in the world. Charlie laughed, and pulled her curls, and said he hoped he should be able to take better care of her when he was bigger, 'better than I have done, Ju,' he added, somewhat dolefully; 'I shall not forget that spill with Gallant Grey in a hurry. What a jolly horse he was too, and how delighted I was when Papa let me choose him at that lovely shop in London, where they sell nothing but horses, and a little girl sits and rocks on one in the window, you know. Poor old Gallant Grey, I wonder how he's getting on, and whether Phil Reeves has had as many spills as I have. But halloa, Ju, here's a queer thing! why, if there is not a rocking-horse in that little garden!'
"As Bonnie Prince Charlie and his little princess stood hand-in-hand at the gate and peeped at me with surprise through the rails, I could have eaten my head with vexation to think I could not even neigh a "how d'ye do?" to them.
"'My eyes,' said Charlie, as he slowly turned away, 'what an old nag that is! not a bad made animal, but what a colour, and what spots! What can he be? Perhaps they're going to have Guy Faux on horseback, and are getting ready the steed!'
"And off went Charlie and Julia, and I could hear their merry voices ringing with laughter, for a long way down the lane. If it had only been in my nature to cry, I should have shed red hot tears of vexation, enough to burn up the little grass plat I stood on. I never saw Charlie and Julia again, and lived for a long while a sort of humdrum existence with Bill Soames. But life seemed very flat after that sad mortification, and I never went on the little grass plat again without remembering it. And time passed on, and when Bill grew bigger and went out to work, he gave me away to another chum, who was a horrid sailor boy, and had no more notion of riding than a teaspoon. He soon grew tired of me, and passed me on to some one else. And so have I served many masters, and have in my time been kept in some very queer stables. But I never cared for any of my subsequent owners so much as I did for Charlie, and Bill Soames, for they were all dull, uninteresting boys, who treated me as a mere toy, and cared less for me than a top or a kite.
"When I came to Harry Spenser, however, I began to think I was going to have a sort of second life, and be happy once more. The first thing that made me take to him was that he saved up his pocket money till he could afford to have me re-painted. I was now a bright bay, with a white star on my forehead, and though I bore a good many marks of ill usage and former accidents, and both my knees were broken, still at a distance I looked pretty well. Harry's little brother, Frank, thought me perfection, and christened me "Bay Middleton," and had many a pleasant ride on me. But Harry was just in all the delight of the perusal of the Arabian nights, and could think of nothing but the Enchanted Horse, and he played at being Prince Firouz Schah, till I was quite tired of it. He drove two huge nails in my neck to serve for the two pegs that he was to turn, the one to raise him up among the clouds like a bird, and the other to lower him to earth once more. The latter peg is still here, as you may see, behind my ear, but they never performed that feat with me, for Harry was not magician enough to endow me with flying powers. He tried very hard to get Celia to play the part of the Princess of Bengal, but though she was very willing and obliging, and tried to do what he wished, she was too big to ride behind him, and he did not think her quite majestic enough for the part. At last, when Harry went off to Eton, I was put away here, and though for a time I indulged in a faint hope that he might look for me on his return for the holidays, I was disappointed, and even Frank has never looked for me since. And so now, my friends, I have given you a history of all that has befallen me, including the famous episode of my running away."
The Toys, who had been much amused by the relation of the Rocking Horse, more particularly by the grave manner in which he spoke, to which his very rackety and dilapidated appearance lent a ludicrous effort, now thanked him very heartily for his story, and proceeded to call on the Skipping-rope for the next story.