"Well—I dare say you have," the bay admitted. "But what about that pony? I never saw him do any work. I venture to say that he's never done a day's work in his life."
Twinkleheels couldn't help feeling uncomfortable.
"I'd be glad to help with the thrashing," he said. "But what can I do if Farmer Green won't let me?"
The bays talked to each other in an undertone. Then one of them said: "You might refuse to eat any more oats."
Somehow Twinkleheels did not care for that suggestion; and he said as much.
"What's the matter with hay?" the other bay asked him. "If you have plenty of hay you ought to be satisfied."
"No!" Twinkleheels told him. "I can't get along on hay alone. Johnnie Green expects me to be spry and playful. And you know very well that a horse or a pony can't be spirited without plenty of oats."
Once more the bays muttered to each other in a low tone. And at last they told Twinkleheels that he was greedy.
"You don't need any oats," they said. "You have more to eat than we do, all the time."
Twinkleheels was astonished.