Now came the evergreen trees, tall and thick and green, and the Rocking-Horse Pony and the Brownies found themselves racing through a dense little wood.
‘I know where he is going!’ shouted Nimbletoes, who, with Brownie Fleetfoot, was running well in the lead. ‘I believe he is going to Mr. Mendham’s house!’
The news was passed down the line until the last one in the procession, little old Crusty, heard the tidings.
‘He is going to Mr. Mendham’s, we all believe!’
Soon the Brownies set up another shout.
‘There is Mr. Mendham’s house! We are right! Sharpeyes’ Pony is going to Mr. Mendham’s house.’
Between two tall trees before them there stood a little house, a little white house with a bright red chimney, green window-boxes, and a green front door. Over the door hung a sign—
MR. MENDHAM
TOY TINKER