My First Pony. 25 



nunch" usually took Tom just one hour by 

 the clock ; he ate very slowly, but kept on the 

 whole time munch, munch, munch, with his 

 mouth as full as he could cram. I promised I 

 would wait for him meantime. I need hardly 

 say my chagrin and disappointment were very 

 great, as I had, I believe, intended going as far 

 as Bristol, only about twenty-eight miles off, 

 by way of a trial trip. If I had succeeded 

 there is no knowing where my next excursion 

 w^ould have led me to ; as it was, I sat with 

 the spurs on and the whip in my hand, cogi- 

 tating as to what was to be the result of the 

 next move. 



It was tiresome work waiting for Tom's hour, 

 and give it up as a bad job I could not; so 

 after a time I got my steed out into the garden, 

 and thought I would try a somewhat shorter 

 excursion, by riding him about the walks. 

 Accordingly, up I got again. It seemed to suit 

 my long-eared friend's notions better than 

 going to Bristol, for away he trotted at once, 

 and everything seemed to be going on as satis- 

 factorily as possible to both parties, when, in 

 an unlucky moment, some evil spirit tempted 

 me to give him a dig with the spurs. It is one 



