THE AMBITIOUS ROCKING-HORSE.
THERE was once a rocking-horse, but he did not want to be a rocking-horse. He wanted to be a trotter.
He went to a jockey and asked him if he would like to buy a trotter.
“Where is your trotter?” asked the jockey.
“Me’s him!” said the rocking-horse. That was all the grammar he knew.
“Oh!” said the jockey. “You are the trotter, eh?”
“Yes,” said the rocking-horse. “What will you give me for myself?”
“A bushel of shavings,” said the jockey.