“Dulcie, where did this pony come from?”
“Dat pony ’rive here dis mornin’, Missy Roxy. Young Massa Hinham lef’ dat pony; an’ he say it were for Missy Roxy to hev ’til he comes ter fetch it. I reckon dat’s yo’ pony, Missy,” and Dulcie beamed and nodded as she saw Roxy’s delighted smile. “Young Massa Hinham say dat de pony’s name am ‘Beauty,’” Dulcie added, and Roxy ventured to pat “Beauty’s” neck, and found the pony well pleased by her attention.
Jacob declared the newcomer as “tame as a kitten,” and after supper Roxy came back to the yard, climbed to the pony’s back and, guiding it by pulling on its mane and rapping her feet sharply against its fat sides, she rode it about the yard, and for the time entirely forgot all about the ledge and her task of watching a distant road.
Grandma Miller said that she knew all about the gray pony: Roland, when he was Roxy’s age, had trotted it up and down the country roads and across fields and pastures, and Jasmine often rode on its fat back.
“Roxy will be perfectly safe with ‘Beauty’ and she can ride over to see Polly instead of walking,” said Mrs. Miller, greatly to Roxy’s delight, who at once decided that on the following morning instead of climbing up the slope to the ledge she would ride on “Beauty.” But she said nothing of this to Grandma, and was ready to go to bed at an early hour after her long day on the distant ledge.
CHAPTER XIV
ROXY TAKEN PRISONER
Everyone about the Miller farm was so busy that Roxy’s daily disappearance did not attract much notice. With her well-filled lunch basket she would run into the yard, slip bit and bridle over “Beauty’s” head, seat herself on his broad back and trot off down the slope to the ledge, and then leave “Beauty” to wander about the pasture until the late afternoon.
The pony never went far away. He would feed on the wild grasses, going to the brook to drink the cool water, and come trotting back to the shade of the ledge. Several times each day Roxy would leave her watch-tower and go down to pat “Beauty” and keep him company for a few moments. The little creature had always been with children, and was well content to keep within hearing of Roxy’s voice.
“Dinah,” the big rag doll, now lived permanently under the scrubby oak tree on top of the ledge, and the two gray squirrels, “Lee” and “Jackson,” became so tame that they would come running to watch Roxy climb up the ledge, chittering and scolding noisily, and eager for bits from the well-filled lunch basket. They were no longer afraid of the little girl, and when they would perch themselves beside “Dinah” as if expecting the big doll to feed them, watching her with sharp, bead-like eyes, Roxy would laugh with delight. By the end of the third day of her self-appointed task she found the time going very rapidly and thought the top of the ledge the finest of playhouses.
On the second day Polly had appeared at noonday bringing a fine ripe melon and some peaches, and the two girls had feasted happily.