The Tale of Pony Twinkleheels | Page 7

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 creak."
The Muley Cow was somewhat offended.
"I've known Ebenezer a great many years," she snapped. "I don't care to
hear a young upstart--a mere pony--make fun of him."
Twinkleheels moved away. He felt the least bit uncomfortable.
"I don't like your young friend," said the Muley Cow to the old horse
Ebenezer. "He hasn't a proper respect for old people like you and me."
"Oh, he's not a bad sort," Ebenezer replied. "He has a good many things
to learn. Perhaps he'll be wiser by night. I shouldn't worry about him, if
I were you."
The Muley Cow told Ebenezer that he was entirely too good-natured.
And they went their own ways, grazing and rambling aimlessly about
the pasture.

Now and then, during the day, they chanced to meet. And always the
Muley Cow asked Ebenezer if Twinkleheels had learned anything
more.
"Not yet!" Ebenezer said, each time. "The day's not done till sunset."
Well, late in the afternoon Johnnie Green came slowly up the lane and
stood by the pasture bars and whistled. Twinkleheels and Ebenezer
happened to be together when they heard that cheerful chirp.
"I'll race you to the bars!" Twinkleheels exclaimed.
"Agreed!" cried Ebenezer. The word was no sooner out of his mouth
than he started with a rush. He was three jumps ahead of Twinkleheels
before that surprised pony began to run.
"I'll soon catch the old horse," Twinkleheels thought. "He can't last
long. I'll pass him before we reach the brook."
Before Twinkleheels came to the brook Ebenezer had crossed it in one
mighty leap. He was pounding along with a powerful stride over the
firm turf of the pasture. And behind him Twinkleheels' pattering feet
struggled to shorten the distance between them.
To Twinkleheels' dismay he saw that Ebenezer was steadily drawing
away from him. Although Twinkleheels ran his fastest, Ebenezer
reached the bars six good lengths ahead of him.

X
EBENEZER'S RECORD
The old horse Ebenezer had beaten Twinkleheels in the race to the bars.
While Johnnie Green slipped their halters on them, and they munched
the oats that he gave them, neither of them spoke. Johnnie mounted
Ebenezer bareback; and leading Twinkleheels, he turned down the lane.

"You're not as slow as I thought you were," Twinkleheels said to
Ebenezer as they drew near the barn. "And somehow I couldn't seem to
get to running smoothly. I'd like to race you again. I think I could beat
you next time."
"Perhaps you could," said Ebenezer. "I don't often run nowadays. But I
did running enough when I was younger. I used to race at the county
fair, every fall."
"Did you ever win a race at the fair?" Twinkleheels inquired.
"Yes!" Ebenezer answered. "Yes! I can remember winning a race now
and then."
"He never lost a race in his whole life!" cried the Muley Cow, who was
walking just ahead of them. "Ebenezer used to be known as the fastest
horse in these parts. He had a record."
Twinkleheels gasped. "A record!" he exclaimed. "What's that?"
"I don't know, exactly," said the Muley Cow. "I never saw Ebenezer's.
But it must have been a fine one, for Farmer Green was always talking
about it."
"A horse's record," Ebenezer explained, "is the fastest time he ever
makes in a race." Then he added, to Twinkleheels: "You and I will have
another race the next time we're in the pasture together."
Twinkleheels gave him an odd look. Somehow Ebenezer did not seem
just a poky old farm horse, as Twinkleheels had always regarded him.
For the first time Twinkleheels noticed that Ebenezer had many good
points. There