Six Ponies

by Josephine Pullein-Thompson

  “That’s quite all right,” said Cousin Harry. “Thank you for schooling Romany.”

  Mrs. Holbrooke appeared then, and invited them all to tea in the house. Mrs. Kettering and Colonel Shelbourne accepted, but the Major and Noel stayed to watch the finals of the bending. As the winners galloped out, Dick Hayward leading by a neck from John, with Evelyn close behind, the Major rose to go, and, turning to Noel, he asked, “Well, and how does it feel to be the champion horse-breaker, Uriah?” When Noel, speechless with embarrassment, merely blushed and looked at her feet, he added, “The best of having an inferiority complex is that you only get nice surprises.”

  Some time later, when Evelyn, Hilary, and Margaret came out of the ring with their rosettes for the musical poles, they were greeted by shrieks from James. “Oh, Hilary,” he shouted, “isn’t it wonderful? Doc.’s bought Rocket.”

  “Bought Rocket?” asked Hilary. “Are you sure, Jim?”

  “Yes, I was there,” said James. “Look, there he is, still talking to Colonel Shelbourne. He said that Rocket would do for Andrew when the rest of us got too big.”

  “Oh, how marvellous,” said Hilary. “I must go and thank him.”

  Later still, when the prize-giving was over and the competitors had ridden home and settled their ponies for the night, the deeply glowing red sunset invaded the various houses of the horse-breakers. At the Priory it clashed horribly with the Radcliffes’ hair as they lay scattered in sprawling attitudes about the nursery. They had been discussing the events of the day, but now, for a moment, they were silent. Hilary thought how lovely it was that the parting, which she had spent the last few weeks steeling herself against, would never come. Rocket would stay with them for ever. When she grew much too big, Marga, Jim, and then Andrew would ride him. Later she might have him for her children; she was determined to have a large family; it was much more fun. Evelyn thought how good Northwind had been. His behaviour in the bending and musical poles had made up for his carelessness in the jumping. It was the first gymkhana at which three of them had been first, second, and third in the same event. That and Roger’s success in the senior jumping had more than upheld the honour of the stable. It was funny, she thought, how little she cared about Noel having Romany. At first she had felt that she would never speak to her again; but perhaps seeing Romany go so well had softened the blow. She couldn’t have borne to see her spoiled, she was such a gay, willing pony. But even if she hadn’t let Jim ride her on that fateful day, she would be parting with her now. Doc. would never have bought them both, she thought, and he would have chosen Rocket, because he had the quieter temperament. Romany would be no good for Andrew.

  Roger was jumping round the ring again in his imagination. He could feel Sky Pilot flying easily through the air and see his black ears pricked in front of him. He had always longed to win the jumping, and now, at last, he had done it.

  Margaret felt pleased with herself. She had won a prize at her first show and had only been beaten by her sisters. If they hadn’t been there she would have been first. Jim might have had less faults than her in the jumping, but everyone knew that Darkie was really better than Pixie, and he hadn’t won anything. Neither Roger, Hilary, nor Evelyn had won a prize when they were as young as she was.

  James was very tired, but the last thing he wanted was to go to bed. He wondered dreamily how one could fix a comfortable loose-box in a ship, so that when he reached strange and undiscovered lands he could lead out Darkie, or a horse just like her, and, mounting, explore, jumping logs, streams, and any jungle undergrowth which lay in his path.

  The door opened, and Dr. Radcliffe walked in. “Look,” he said, “I’ve found a bottle of Madeira; don’t you think we ought to drink it out of Roger’s cup?”

  Mrs. Cresswell and June sat in arm-chairs in the Tudor lounge. They were silent, exhausted by their post-mortems on the show. They had argued throughout supper, but it had got them nowhere, and now Mrs. Cresswell toyed with the thought of moving to a less horsy part of the country, where June could once more reign supreme. June’s own conscience was clear. It wasn’t her fault, she thought, that Romany had turned out a better-looking pony than Dawn, and, because of her conformation, had been easier to school. It wasn’t her fault that Mr. Barington-Brown could buy Susan a more expensive pony than her mother could afford. As for Dick Turpin in the jumping, he had never jumped like that before, and the only thing she could think of was that John had practised him over the jumps—he lived near enough to Folly Court. Still, thought June, Wonder had knocked the parallel bars the second time round. She must be getting past her prime after all; she was nearly twelve. June decided that she would need a new pony next summer, something that would win in novice classes. “Mummy,” she said, “how much do you think we’d get for Wonder?”

  John nailed Turpin’s first and second and Jet’s third rosettes close to the others beside the saddles and bridles, and stood back to admire them. He had never thought this morning that he would do so well, and he didn’t suppose that any one else had either. Turpin had been wonderful. It just showed what the forward seat did, and even dad had said that there might be something in it after all. Jet had behaved awfully well too, but he wished now that he had another holiday to teach her to collect in. He would love to see her go like Romany. He was going to miss her terribly, but he would probably be too heavy to ride her next holidays, and he knew that the Major would see that she had a good home. Perhaps someone who lived near would buy her, and then he would see her occasionally.

  As she ate her dinner, Susan’s eyes turned at intervals to the cup she had won in the showing, which had been put in the middle of the dining-room mantelpiece. Beauty had been good to beat Golden Wonder. She had gone better than ever before, and quite made up for Susan’s disappointment over Sunset in the best-trained pony class. On the whole, she was glad that Noel had won it. She had taken more trouble than any of them—reading those dreadful dry books and studying the aids and school figures all day long. Now that she was going to have a grey pony about the same size as Beauty, they would be able to have lovely rides together, and perhaps their parents would allow them to hunt every Saturday in the autumn and spring terms.

  “Wake up, Susan, and help yourself to vegetables,” said Mrs. Barington-Brown.

  “She’s going to be worse than ever now that she’s won a cup,” said Valerie. “I wish you’d spent as much on my education as you have on her riding, Dad. It’s easy to do these things if you’ve got money behind you.”

  “And if you’re any good you’ll do just as well without money,” said Mr. Barington-Brown. “Look at Noel Kettering. She hadn’t even a pony.”

  “At least I won a rosette, so I did better than you,” said Richard to Jill. “And I wasn’t so feeble as to let Peter cart me out of the ring.”

  “Rufus nearly did,” said Jill. “Everyone asked what was the matter with him, and said he looked so unschooled beside the other ponies.”

  “Well, it’s none of their business,” said Richard, “and if they minded their own they’d get on much better.”

  “What about the Major?” asked Jill. “Didn’t he say anything to you?” Richard didn’t reply. He wasn’t going to tell Jill that during the tea interval the Major had taken him aside and asked, “Well, Richard, what was the matter with Rufus?” Richard had gone red in the face, and for a few moments he had been at a loss for a reply. Then, to gain time, he had said, “I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

  “Don’t be absurd,” the Major had said sharply. “You don’t think, I hope, that Rufus behaved perfectly in the best-trained pony class?”

  “Well, no,” Richard had admitted. “But, of course, it was all very new to him.”

  “Nonsense,” Major Holbrooke had said, in what Richard considered an overbearing manner. “None of the other ponies were upset and they were all just as new to it. Quite frankly,” he had gone on, “I don’t think that you’ve been schooling him. I only wish that you had told me you were tire
d of him earlier, then I could have made other arrangements. But one thing is, that you’ll know not to undertake anything of this sort again. For heavens’ sake don’t go through life letting yourself in for things which don’t really interest you merely to appease your vanity. Realise your limitations, especially where animals are concerned.”

  “I’m sure that I shan’t bother with a young horse again,” Richard had answered, furious at being lectured by a horsy bore like Holbrooke. “People like Noel and June are much more suitable. The monotony of schooling is definitely wearying to an active brain.”

  “My dear Richard,” Major Holbrooke had replied, “I can only hope that one day you will blush to think of the idiotic and conceited remarks which you make now. When you reach that stage, if you ever do, don’t despair of becoming a likeable character; you will have begun to improve from that moment. I’ll let you know what day I want Rufus back. Good-bye.” No, it certainly wasn’t the sort of thing one told one’s sister, thought Richard; it was the sort one locked in some very distant corner of one’s mind and tried to forget. Unfortunately, the corner was getting rather full; school friends made such a lot of silly remarks, and one day there might not be any more room. The last remark would break the camel’s back, and a torrent of abuse would pour into Richard’s system. But, until then, he forgot.

  Mrs. Kettering was really delighted at Noel’s success with Romany, and with her luck at being given a pony. She didn’t say, as many richer mothers might, that feeding it would be an expense, nor did she point out that Noel had no saddle nor bridle in which to ride it. As they sat on opposite sides of the fire, after a celebration supper of pea-soup, bacon and eggs, apple tart and cider, they tried to think of names. “It’s so difficult,” said Noel, “when one hasn’t even seen her. I can imagine her perfectly, but I may be imagining her wrong.”

  “Surely there’s no need to settle finally on a name to-night,” said Mrs. Kettering. “I should write down all the possibles and decide when you’ve seen her.”

  “Gosh, I’m excited,” said Noel. “But it’s going to be awful parting with Romany.” In her mind’s eye Noel saw her: young and inquisitive at the shareout; covered in sweat when Evelyn rode her in the paper-chase; fat, round, and muddy when she was turned out at Folly Farm, but never had she looked so lovely as that evening, grazing peacefully in Farmer Cox’s field against a background of elms in the soft rose-coloured twilight.

  “I know it’s silly,” said Noel. “But, even though I’m too big for her, I’d rather keep Romany than have the grey.”

  “Quite a successful show, I think,” said Major Holbrooke, when the last of his guests had gone to bed.

  “Very good indeed,” said Mrs. Holbrooke, poking up the dying embers of the drawing-room fire. “Everyone said so, except Mrs. Cresswell.”

  “She certainly had a nasty shock, poor woman,” said Major Holbrooke. “It’s rather hard on her, really, considering how she dotes on that child.”

  “She wasn’t the only person who was surprised,” said Mrs. Holbrooke. “I was myself. You told me that some of the children had improved, but they had improved out of all recognition. Honestly, I could hardly believe that they were the same children that competed in the gymkhana last year.”

  “They only needed teaching,” said Major Holbrooke, “and I think that Cousin Harry’s six ponies were the best schoolmasters of all.”

  Publication Info

  SIX PONIES

  by

  JOSEPHINE PULLEIN-THOMPSON

  With Illustrations

  by Anne Bullen

  COLLINS

  14 ST. JAMES’S PLACE LONDON

  1946

  * * *

  COPYRIGHT

  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN

  COLLINS CLEAR-TYPE PRESS : LONDON AND GLASGOW

  1946

  Version Info

  v 1.0 HTML

  • Scanned and proofed 2011-07-06

  • Changes / Corrections to the printed book

  • went to sleep / sleep.

  • Mary Compton’s Black-bird / Blackbird

  • Paragraph break added after “it makes my back ache.”

  • “ A good horse is never a bad colour!’ ” / “ ‘A good horse

  • “Yes, she’s awfully nice,” agreed Roger / “Yes, he’s

  • Noel felt even more embarraised / embarrassed

  • Oh, goodness, she thought miserable, why ever / miserably

  • But you can’t dislike Dickens / “But

  • Meanwhile, as. Mrs. Cresswell / as Mrs.

  • Isn’t that right. Noel / right, Noel

  • “ A garden is a lovesome thing God wot!’ ” / “ ‘A garden

  • she would even had Topsy / have Topsy

  • pinched Susan with the girth / pinched Sunset

  • in the Flamingo’s cage / flamingo’s

  • drum the turn on the forehead / forehand

  • and you know what he’s like ” / like.”

  • when it comes to a straight gallop. / gallop.”

  • saddle O.K.,” James?” / O.K., James?”

  • she lent forward / leant

  • “All right,” keep your hair on,” / “All right, keep your hair on,”

  • where Jim is. What will mummy say?” / say?

  • “ Tipperary?’ ” asked Hilary. / “ ‘Tipperary?’ ”

  • Not that it’ll be much good now; / “Not that it’ll be much good now;

  • the gymkhana or test he said he was going to have / or the test

  • Because only one horse in a thousand / “Because

  • that awful Mitchel / Mitchell

  • The Barrington-Brown child’s pony / Barington

  • Contes d’Hoffman / Contes d’Hoffmann

  • Marianna in the moated grange / Mariana

  • Mendel’s Principles of Hereditary / Heredity

  • who’s fault is that / whose

  • “You shut up.” said Richard to Jill. / “You shut up,”

  • on Rocket,” said the collecting steward.” / on Rocket,” said the collecting steward.

  • said Hilary as he rode out. I’ve / said Hilary as he rode out. “I’ve

  • clashed horribly with the Radcliffe’s hair / Radcliffes’ hair

  • Clarrisa Penn second / Clarrissa

  • Clarrisa might have been / Clarrissa

  • the Radcliffes and Clarissa / Clarrissa

  • Clarissa Penn nearly drove / Clarrissa

  • Of course, there’s Clarissa / Clarrissa

  • Possible errors

  • maggotty

  • toylike

  • Inconsistent spelling

  • view-holler / view holloa

  • Flapton’s / Flaptons’

  • Friar’s Fenchurch / Friars’ Fenchurch

  • mummy / Mummy

  • Inconsistent hyphenation

  • forelegs / fore-legs

  • halter rope / halter-rope

  • back reining / back-reining

  • anyone / any one

  • fed-up / fed up

  • head carriage / head-carriage

  • fore-hand / forehand

  • paper chase / paper-chase

  • brush-fence / brush fence

  • Doc’s / Doc.’s

  • hind leg / hind-leg

  • hotted-up / hotted up

  • boarding school / boarding-school

  • bending poles / bending-poles

  • potato-race / potato race