Jess brightened up at once, and flew out into the kitchen, where three or four maids brought her everything she wanted to cook with.
And Benny was the last one to wish for his old home.
"Grandfather," he said one day, "I wish I could drink this milk out of my own pink cup!"
This set Mr. Cordyce to thinking. He had plenty of pink cups, it is true, but none of them were as dear to Benny as his own.
"I think I shall have to surprise you children," said Mr. Cordyce at last. "But before the surprise comes, perhaps you would like to see Benny's pony." Then he led the way to the stables. He owned several beautiful horses already, and nearly a dozen wonderful cars. But nothing was half so interesting as the pony. He was very small and very fat and black. His wavy tail was so long that it nearly touched the ground. And his name was "Cracker," because his birthday fell on the Fourth of July, when firecrackers were popping.
Benny took a short ride around the stable, being "held on" by a groom. But the second time around, he said, "Cracker doesn't need you to hold onto him, I shouldn't wonder," and trotted around with great delight, without help.
All the others sat down on the fragrant hay to watch him ride.
"What am I going to do when I grow up, Grandfather?" asked Henry.
"You're going to take my place, Henry, as president of the steel mills," replied Mr. Cordyce. "You will do it better than I ever have." (And one day this came true, just as most of Mr. Cordyce's prophecies did.)
"And what am I going to do?" asked Jess, curiously.