Free Six Ponies by Josephine Pullein-Thompson

and Wendy easily, she was exasperated by Richard’s remarks on Major Holbrooke’s incredible mentality in liking the Pimpernel books and finding any of Dickens dull. However, not having read any of the works, she was hardly in a position to argue, though, as Richard kindly pointed out, she couldn’t beexpected to have read much, for she was only eleven, and a girl at that.
    As they rode into the town they noticed that it was busier than usual, and they realised, to their dismay, that it was market day, when the otherwise quiet little town became a mass of traffic, stalls, and people.
    “Gosh, that’s torn it,” said Richard. “How on earth are we going to get this brute through the market-place?”
    “We can’t go back now,” said Jill. “It’s simply
miles
round by Friars’ Fenchurch.”
    “No, we can’t go right round there,” agreed Richard. “We shall just have to risk it; but I should think that if you ride ahead this animal will follow.”
    “All right,” said Jill. “But I do hope Peter doesn’t shy. I know I shall fall off if he does.”
    “For goodness’ sake don’t start being feeble,” said Richard disagreeably; “and do hurry up. We’re hours late for lunch already.”
    “It’s a good thing Mrs. Holbrooke rang mummy up,” said Jill, “or she’d have been awfully cross, for she said we were to be back by one.”
    “She’ll be in a bait, don’t you worry,” said Richard. “But I can’t see what she wants to make such a fuss for; she could easily have asked old Bunting to cut us some sandwiches and then it wouldn’t have mattered what time we got back. Dash it all,” he went on, “I’m in the ‘Schol’ form at school
and
captain of cricket. She can’t go on treating me as though I were a kid.”
    “Do stop criticising mummy,” said Jill. “It must be your fault anyway, for she’s not nearly so cross when you’re away at school.”
    “It’s all very well for you,” said Richard. “Girls
like
staying at home and keeping clean, but boys are different. Except for not being able to ride and having to swot, I’d rather be at school than at home any day. We have some pretty good ‘rags’ there. . . .” And he was still telling Jill about one of the “rags” as they turned into the market-place. When the bay pony saw the crowd of people andthe stalls, with their gaily striped awnings, he stopped and gazed with wide, frightened eyes. Richard tried to pull him forward, and Jill rode on ahead, hoping he would follow when he saw the other ponies weren’t afraid. He did, for a few steps, and then the owner of a near-by stall came out of it, flapping the orange and white awning as he did so. This was too much for the bay. With a snort he whirled round and, knocking Richard into the gutter, he galloped back up the road to Basset.
    Richard lay in the gutter for a few minutes, wondering whether his arm, which hurt horribly, was broken, and thinking what a sensation he would cause if he went back to school with it in a sling. Then realising where he was, he scrambled to his feet, just as the bay pony, which had been turned by a man on a bicycle, came galloping back. Jill, who had dismounted at the first sign of trouble, let go of Peter and Wendy and, with a shrill shriek, fled to the comparative safety of the chemist’s doorway. Richard stood in the middle of the road, waving his arms and shouting, in a half-hearted attempt to stop the pony. Then when he was almost upon him he, too, took cover in the doorway of the chemist’s shop. The bay pony galloped up the High Street, followed by Wendy, her reins and stirrups flying, and disappeared round the corner by the church. But Peter, being a greedier and more phlegmatic character, didn’t bother to follow them. Instead, he found a vegetable stall, the owner of which had gone to see what the excitement was about, and started to make the most of it.
    “Oh, Jill, you are feeble,” said Richard. “Why ever did you let them