When Tickle-My-Toes had told about how pleased the baker and his wife were with Sparkle Spry, he paused and looked at Chickamy Crany Crow, as if he expected that she would beckon him away. But, instead of that, she said:—

“Why, that isn’t all.”

“Well, it’s enough, I hope,” replied Tickle-My-Toes.

“No,” said Mrs. Meadows, “it’s not enough, if there’s any more. Why, so far it’s the best of all the stories. It’s new to me. I had an idea that I had heard all the stories, but this one is a pole over my persimmon, as we used to say in the country next door.”

“I don’t like to tell stories,” protested Tickle-My-Toes, puckering his face in a comical way. “It’s too confining.”

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Mr. Rabbit. “It’s time you were settling down. What will you look like a year or two from now, if you keep on cutting up your capers?”

Tickle-My-Toes caught hold of the corner of Chickamy Crany Crow’s apron, and, thus fortified, resumed his story:—

“Well, the baker and his wife promised Sparkle Spry they would have him a big wooden horse made, and they were as good as their word. They sent right off that very day for a carpenter and joiner, and when he came, Sparkle Spry showed the man what he wanted. He said the horse must be as much like a real horse as could be made out of wood, and three times as big.

“The man asked the baker’s wife what the brat wanted with such a machine as that, and this made the good woman mad.

“‘He’s no brat, I can tell you that!’ she exclaimed, ‘and if he wants a play horse as big as a whale and the same shape, he shall have it. Now if you want to make his play horse, get to work and make it. If not, I’ll get somebody else to make it.’

“But the man declared he meant no harm, and said he was glad to get the work. So he got the lumber, and in a few days, being a very clever workman, he had finished the wooden horse. He made it just as Sparkle Spry wanted him to. He put big hinges at the joints of the legs, cut a window in each side of the body, made the ears and the nostrils hollow, and fixed pieces of glass for the eyes.

“The carpenter seemed to enjoy his work, too, for every time he went off a little distance to see how his work looked, he laughed as hard as he could. When he was nearly done he asked Sparkle Spry if he wanted the roof shingled.

“‘Why, no,’ replied the boy. ‘There’s no roof there. Besides, horses don’t have shingles on them.’

“He’ll look pretty rough,” remarked the man.

“‘Yes,’ said Sparkle Spry, ‘but after you get through with him he is to be polished off.’

“‘That’s so,’ the carpenter assented, ‘but this horse has a good many things about him that other horses haven’t got.’

“So, when the carpenter was through with the horse, a leather finisher was sent for, and he covered the horse with hides of cows tanned with the hair on, and fixed a cow’s tail where the horse’s tail should have been.

“The baker grumbled a little at this extra expense, and said he was afraid Sparkle Spry had strained his head the night he baked so much bread. But the baker’s wife said she would like to have a whole house full of crazy children, if Sparkle Spry was crazy.

“When the wooden horse was finished, Sparkle Spry waited until the baker and his wife had gone to bed, and then he tapped on the oven and whistled. Presently the King of the Clinkers peeped out to see what the matter was. He came from behind the oven cautiously, until he found that Sparkle Spry was alone, and then he came forth boldly.

“‘The horse is ready,’ said Sparkle Spry.

“‘Ready!’ exclaimed the King of the Clinkers. ‘Well, I think it is high time. My workmen could have built it in a night; and here I have been waiting and waiting for I don’t know how long.’

“‘I hope you’ll like it,’ Sparkle Spry suggested.

“‘Like it!’ cried the King of the Clinkers. ‘Why, of course I’ll like it. I haven’t enjoyed a ride in so long that I’m not likely to quarrel with the horse that carries me.’

“‘But this is a wooden horse,’ remarked Sparkle Spry.

“‘I should hope so; yes, indeed!’ grunted the King of the Clinkers. ‘I have been riding wooden horses as long as I can remember. They may be a little clumsy, but they suit me.’

“‘But this horse has no rockers,’ persisted Sparkle Spry. ‘It is as solid as a house.’

“‘Much you know about wooden horses,’ said the King of the Clinkers. ‘Wait; I’ll call my torchbearers.’

“He tapped on the oven with his tiny poker, and immediately a company of little men filed out from behind it. As they passed the furnace door they lit their torches at a live coal, and marched out to the wooden horse, followed by the King of the Clinkers and Sparkle Spry.

“The latter had reason to be very much astonished at what he saw then and afterwards. The torchbearers led the way to the left foreleg of the wooden horse, opened a door, and filed up a spiral stairway, the King of the Clinkers following after. Sparkle Spry climbed up by means of a stepladder that the carpenter had used. When he crawled through the window in the side of the wooden horse, he saw that a great transformation had taken place, and the sight of it almost took his breath away.

“A furnace with a small bake oven had been fitted up, and there was also a supply of flour, coal, and wood. The flue from the furnace ran in the inside of the horse’s neck, finding a vent for the smoke at the ears. On all sides were to be seen the tools and furniture of a bakery, and there were places where the little men might stow themselves away when they were not on duty, and there was a special apartment for the King of the Clinkers.

“In a little while the whole interior of the horse swarmed with the followers of the King of the Clinkers, who stood counting them as they came in.

“‘All here,’ he said, waving his little poker. ‘Now get to bed and rest yourselves.’

“They complied so promptly that they seemed to disappear as if by magic. The torchbearers had thrown their torches in the furnace, and as wood had already been placed there, a fire was soon kindled.

“‘Now,’ said the King of the Clinkers, closing the draught, ‘we’ll let it warm up a little and see if the carpenter has done his work well.’

“Thereupon he pulled a cord that seemed to be tied to a bell, and, in a little while, Sparkle Spry felt that the horse was in motion. He hardly knew what to make of it. He went to the window and peeped out, and the lights in the houses seemed to be all going to the rear. Occasionally a creaking sound was heard, and sometimes he could feel a jar or jolt in the horse’s frame.

“‘Are we flying?’ he asked, turning to the King of the Clinkers.

“‘Flying! Nothing of the sort. Don’t you feel a jolt when the horse lifts up a foot and puts it down again? I’m mighty glad it is a pacing horse. If it was a trotting horse it would shake us all to pieces.’

“‘Where are we going?’ inquired Sparkle Spry.

“‘Following the army—following the army,’ replied the King of the Clinkers. ‘There’s going to be a big battle not far from here, and we may take a hand in it. The king of the country is a fat old rascal, and isn’t very well thought of by the rest of the kings, who are his cousins; but I live here, and he has never bothered me. Consequently, I don’t mind helping him out in a pinch.’

“‘How far do you have to go?’ asked Sparkle Spry, who had no great relish for war if it was as hard as he had heard it was.

“‘Oh, a good many miles,’ replied the King of the Clinkers, ‘and we are not getting on at all. There’s not enough mutton suet on the knee hinges to suit me.’

“So saying, he struck the bell twice, and instantly Sparkle Spry could feel that the wooden horse was going faster.

“‘Does the horse go by the road or through the fields?’ asked Sparkle Spry.

“‘Oh, we take short cuts when necessary,’ answered the King of the Clinkers. ‘We have no time to go round by the road. I hope you are not scared.’

“‘No, not scared,’ replied Sparkle Spry somewhat doubtfully; ‘but it makes me feel queer to be traveling through the country in a wooden horse.’

“Nothing more was said for some time, and Sparkle Spry must have dropped off to sleep, for suddenly he was aroused by the voice of the King of the Clinkers, who called out:—

“‘Here we are! Get up! Stir about!’

“Sparkle Spry jumped to his feet and looked from the window. Day was just dawning, and on the plain before him he saw hundreds of twinkling lights, as if a shower of small stars had fallen to the ground during the night. Being somewhat dazed by his experiences, he asked what they were.

“‘Camp-fires,’ replied the King of the Clinkers. ‘The army that we are going to attack is camped further away, but if you will lift your eyes a little, you will see their camp-fires.’

“‘Do we attack them by ourselves?’ Sparkle Spry asked.

“‘Of course!’ the King of the Clinkers answered. ‘I never did like too much company; besides, I want you to get the credit of it.’

“‘Now, I’d rather be certain of a whole skin than to have any credit,’ protested Sparkle Spry.

“But the King of the Clinkers paid no attention to his protests. He gave his orders to his little men, and strutted about with an air of importance that Sparkle Spry would have thought comical if he had not been thinking of the battle.

“Daylight came on and drowned out the camp-fires, leaving only thin columns of blue smoke to mark them. The wooden horse moved nearer and nearer to the army directly in front of them, and finally came close to the headquarters of the commanding general, who sent out a soldier to inquire the meaning of the apparition. Finally the general came himself, accompanied by his staff, and to him Sparkle Spry repeated what the King of the Clinkers had told him to say. The general pulled his mustache and knitted his brows mightily, and finally he said:—

“‘I’m obliged to you for coming. You’ll have to do the best you can. I never have commanded a wooden horse, and if I were to tell you what to do, I might get you into trouble. I’ll just send word along the line that the wooden horse is on our side, and you’ll have to do the best you can.’

“As he said, so he did. The army soon knew that a big wooden horse had come to help it, and when the queer-looking machine moved to the front, the soldiers got out of the way as fast as they could, and some of them forgot to carry their arms with them. But order was soon restored, and presently it was seen that the opposing army was marching forward to begin the battle.

“The King of the Clinkers waited until the line was formed, and then he sounded the little bell. The horse started off. The bell rang twice, and the horse went faster. Sparkle Spry, looking from the window, could see that he was going at a tremendous rate. The horse went close to the opposing army, and then turned and went down the line to the left. Turning, it came up the line, this time very close. Turning again, it came back, and the soldiers in the front line were compelled to scamper out of the way. While this was going on, the other army came up, but by the time it arrived on the battle-ground there was nothing to fight.

“The wooden horse had stampeded the enemy’s army, and the soldiers had all run away, leaving their arms, their tents, and their bread wagons to be captured.

“The commanding general of the victorious army thanked Sparkle Spry very heartily. ‘I’ll mention your name in my report to the king,’ he said. ‘But I hardly know what to say about the affair. You wouldn’t call this a battle, would you?’

“‘No,’ replied Sparkle Spry, ‘I saw no signs of a battle where I went along.’

“‘It is very curious,’ said the general. ‘I don’t know what we are coming to. A great victory, but nobody killed and no prisoners taken.’

“Then he went off to write his report, and some time afterward the king sent for Sparkle Spry, and gave him lands and houses and money, and made him change his every-day name for a high-sounding one. And the baker and his wife came to live near him, and the King of the Clinkers used to come at night with all his little men, and they had a very good time after all, in spite of the high-sounding name.”

With this, Tickle-My-Toes turned and ran away as hard as he could, whereupon Mr. Rabbit opened his eyes and asked in the most solemn way:—

“Is there a wooden horse after him? I wish you’d look.”