Page 18 - 1917 February - To Dragma

106 TO DRAG MA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI
cheery word now when he came from his night's play. Finally,
one day the little Prince asked him about it.
" M y Rocking-horse, tell me why you are so miserable. There
is something that is worrying you. Please, won't you tell me what
it is?"
"Oh little master, I think I ' d best not."
"Perhaps I might be able to help you," urged the Prince.
"Yes, but I couldn't ask of you," answered the pony.
" I beg you to tell me."
"Well, you've given me freedom to enjoy myself. But at the
end of a year, in fact on your seventh birthday, you are my master
day and night. I can never go to my playmates again. I must be
wood always. Only my mind will live and remember, and long for
the good times again—unless—"
"Unless what?" prompted the Prince.
"That white hair you have—it makes you my master and so long
as you keep it I must remain as I am—only a rocking-horse."
"But i f I threw it away?" questioned the Prince.
"Then I would be free day and night. I could live with my
beautiful playmates and be happy always!"
"Do you mean, you—you'd never be a rocking-horse? You mean
you'd never come back to me? Do you mean that?"
"Yes, my master."
"Then I ' l l never do it. I must have vou to be happy. I can not
do i t ! "
" I couldn't ask it of you," answered the rocking-horse and his
voice was f u l l of sorrow.
So the days passed on. There was never a word spoken between
them—no word of parting at night, no word of welcome in the
morning. Both were very unhappy.
The Prince no longer rode at the head of a charging army, but
rocked disspiritedly, the reins hanging loose.
Finally the night before his birthday arrived, and the pony came
to be released for his last night's frolic. The little Prince silently
removed the white hair and wrapped it around his little finger.
He opened the casement window. The pony couldn't see that tears
were streaming down his little master's face, for two great drops
filled his own eyes.
"Before I go," almost sobbed the pony, " I want to thank you
little Prince for all you've done for me. You've been such a good
and generous master and I have loved you. This is the last time I ' l l
be able to speak, and I want to tell you 'good-bye' and wish you a
happy seventh birthday."
TO DRAG MA OF ALPHA OMICRON PI 107
At that he was gone—out into the darkness. Way off the little
Prince thought he heard a faint whinnying and neighing—even in
these sounds there seemed a note of sadness.
He stood by the window and the hot tears burned his little cheeks.
He slowly unwrapped the white hair, held it at arm's length, then let
it f a l l from his fingers.
"Go, my own little Pony—go and be happy I " he cried. Then he
fell sobbing on the floor.
The next morning the Prince awoke to his seventh birthday. He
wasn't happy. He was lonesome. He didn't want to see his seven
rooms of toys that were to take the place of his beloved rocking-
horse. He was glad the Royal Nurse hadn't come. He would dress
himself, and escape into the woods. So he hurriedly dressed, ran
down into the yard and was passing the Royal Stables when the
Royal Coachman called to h i m :
"Oh come, Your Highness, and see what your Fairy Godmother
has sent you for a birthday present."
The Prince didn't want to go at all, but even at the age of seven
he wasn't very big, and oh, the Royal Coachman was—hot seven but
very big!
There in one of the stalls was—what do you think?—a perfectly
beautiful pony! His hair was soft and brown. His mane was long
and silky and black and his tail was, too. His eyes were the softest
brown and looked straight—into the Prince's.
"Oh—Oh!" sobbed the little Prince i n his great joy, throwing
his arms around his pony's neck.
The Royal Coachman didn't understand why the Prince was so
very happy. But of course yon do, don't you?