two weeks. Finally I got lonesome and homesick and without 

 thinking wandered towards Master's house. I stuck my head into 

 the woodshed. I was surprised and amazed. There was Mr. 

 Hobby-horse a physicial wreck. He couldn't be a mental wreck for 

 he never did have any brains. His legs were broken. He was 

 scratched and torn and the sawdust and straw stuck out from a 

 hundred wounds. The chickens had roosted on his back and as I 

 went in to kick him to pieces I said to myself: "Trixie, never 

 strike an animal when he's down." Excuse me, I never want to 

 be a hobb)'-horse. I now rushed over to Master's house and the 

 children were wild with delight when they saw me again. I was 

 so happy. And I just thought how foolish I had been to pout 

 and sulk over an old hobby-horse that has no sense and can't do 

 anything but stand still and look like a real horse that does stunts 

 and goes to kindergarten school and learns Delsarte and physical 

 culture and becomes graceful and handsome and useful and noble 

 and grand, and entertains the people. Hobby-horse? bah! Not for 

 Princess Trixie. 



CHAPTER XL 



Difference in Animal Nature. 



There seems to me to be just as miuch difference in animals as 



there is in people. In 

 my colt days I re- 

 member how Master 

 brought two spotted 

 little fawns home 

 with him. He said 

 that when they grew 

 big and strong they 

 would be elk. Since 

 then I have heard 

 men called elk and I 

 wondered why. They 

 were big and stately 

 and fine, but they 



Hobby Horse all out of Joint. 



Page 

 Twenty-six 



