d to the end of his
tether.

His new mistress stumbled after him, her face still hidden. She was
trying heroically to stifle the sobs that were shaking her from head to
foot.

"Jewel, Jewel, child!" ejaculated her grandfather, much dismayed. "Come,
come, what's this?"

He drew her with a strong hand, and she deserted the pony, much to the
latter's relief, and clasping Mr. Evringham as high up as she could
reach, began bedewing his vest buttons with her tears.

"Oh, gra--grandpa, I c--can't have him!" she sobbed. "There isn't any
roo--room for him in our--our fla--fla--flat!"

"Well, did you expect to keep him in the flat?" inquired Mr. Evringham,
stooping tenderly, his own eyes shining suspiciously, as he put his arms
around the little shaking form.

"N--no; but we--we haven't any bar--barn."

The broker smiled above the voluminous, quivering bows.

"Well, hasn't some good livery man in your neighborhood a stable?"

"Ye--yes." Jewel made greater efforts to stop crying. "But I--I talked
with mo--mother once about cou--could I ha--have a horse sometime before
I grew up, and she said she might buy the horse, but it would cost so
much--much money every week to board it, it would be error."

Mr. Evringham patted the heaving shoulder.

"Ah, but you don't know yet all about your horse. In some respects I've
never seen a pony like him."

"I--I never have," returned the child.

"Oh, but you'll be surprised at _this_. This pony has a bank account."

Jewel slowly grew quiet.

"Nobody has to pay for _his_ board and clothes. He is very independent.
He would have it that way."

"Grandpa!" came in muffled tones from the broker's vest.

"So don't you think you'd better cheer up and look at him once more, and
tell him you won't cry on his shoulder very often?"

In a minute Jewel looked up, revealing her swollen eyes. "I'm ashamed,"
she said softly, "but he was--so--be--_autiful_--I forgot to remember."

"Well, I guess you did forget to remember," returned Mr. Evringham,
shaking his head and leading the child to her pony's side.

He lifted her into the saddle and arranged her skirt, brushing away the
dust.

"Grandpa!" she exclaimed softly, with a long, quivering sigh, "I'm so
_happy_!"

"Have you ever ridden, Jewel?"

"Oh, yes, a thousand times," she answered quickly; "but not on a real
horse," she added as an afterthought.

"H'm. That might make a difference." Mr. Evringham loosed the pony
and put the whi