Trit-Trot the Pony

There was once a brown pony called Trit-Trot. It belonged to old Mrs. Kennedy, and she used it for pulling her little pony-cart along when she went shopping. But, as she didn’t go shopping very often, Trit-Trot spent a good deal of time alone in the field.

   Every day, as he went to and from school, a boy called Billy stopped to speak with the pony. ‘Hallo, Trit-Trot!’ he would say. ‘How are you to-day? Found any nice grass to eat? I’ll bring you my apple-core to munch when I’ve eaten the apple at school this morning.’

   He always remembered to do as he said, and Trit-Trot liked Billy very much. He though he was the nicest boy he had ever met. Some of the boys that came by were not so nice.

   ‘There’s Leonard – he once threw a stone at me,’ thought the brown pony, as he ate the grass. ‘And there’s that nasty big boy called Harry – he has tried to catch me and ride me heaps of times. I wouldn’t at all mind giving him a ride – but he always has a big stick to hit me with, and I won’t have that! Ah- Billy’s the nicest. Always a kind word for a lonely little pony, and sometimes a juicy carrot, and apple – or even a lump of sugar saved from his breakfast cocoa! He really is a friend to have. I wish I could do something to pay him back for his kindness.’

   Now one day, when Billy was standing on the field-gate talking to Trit-Trot, the big boy called Harry came along.

   ‘Hallo, Billy!’ he said. ‘Got any money to-day? There’s some fine new marbles in the toy-shop.’

   ‘I’ve got three pennies and a ha’penny,’ said Billy. ‘But I’m saving them up for my mother’s birthday.’

   ‘Well, lend them to me till Saturday. And I’ll get the marbles,’ said Harry.

   ‘No,’ said Billy. ‘I lent you a penny last month, and you never gave it back to me.’

   ‘What! You won’t lend me the money to get the marbles!’ cried Harry, angrily. ‘We’ll see about that. I can easily get them away from a little shrimp like you!’

   And before Billy could shout or say a word, Harry had him down off the gate, and had taken the little purse from his pocket. He emptied the money out, put it loose into his own pocket, and threw the purse back to Billy. It wasn’t a bit of good Billy trying to get his money back. Harry was far too big and fierce to fight.

   Harry went off whistling. Billy stared after him, angry and miserable. Trit-trot the pony watched from surprised brown eyes. Billy turned to him and stroked his long nose.

   ‘It’s too bad,’ he said. ‘I shan’t get that money back. I know I shan’t. It took me three-and-a-half weeks to save it.’

   Trit-Trot was sorry. He didn’t like Harry any more than Billy did. He suddenly left the gate and ran down the field. At the end of it there was a gap that he could just squeeze through. Trit-Trot squashed his fat little brown body through it, and then stood waiting for Harry to come by. Ah – there he was, whistling merrily. Harry stopped when he saw Trit-Trot. ‘Hallo!’ he said. ‘You’ve got out of the field. Give me a ride, will you? Come on!’ Usually Trit-Trot ran when Harry came near – but now he stood still, and let Harry get on to his back. ‘Gee-up!’ said Harry, and hit the pony with the stick he always carried.

   The pony trotted off to the opposite side of the road, where there was a muddy patch. He suddenly stooped still, gave himself a jerk and off went Harry, landing in the mud with a bump and a splash. Trit-Trot neighed. Then he bent down his big head, and took hold of Harry’s belt with his strong teeth. Harry screamed. He half-thought the pony was going to eat him! But Trit-Trot had another idea in his mind! He carried the wriggling boy down the lane to the field-gate, where Billy was still standing.

   ‘Hrrrumph!’ said Trit-Trot, still holding Harry tightly by his belt.

   ‘Trit-Trot! You’ve caught Harry – and brought him to me!’ cried Billy, with a laugh, for really Harry looked very funny. ‘I suppose you thought I could get back my money if you held him like that for me. Well – I can!’

   And Billy quickly took back the money Harry had taken from him, and put it safely in his purse. Then Trit-Trot dropped Harry on to the ground and looked at Billy, asking him with his big brown eyes to open the gate and let him into his field once more.

   Harry jumped to his feet and fled down the lane at top speed. He was afraid Trit-Trot would go after him and grab him again. He disappeared round the bend and Billy gave a sigh of relief!

   ‘Thank you, Trit-Trot,’ he said. ‘You really are a good friend! I’m sure Mother won’t believe me when she hears what you did!’

   ‘Hrrrumph!’ said Trit-Trot, rubbing his nose against Billy’s arm. Billy knew what that meant quite well – he was saying: ‘I’ve paid you back for your kindness1’ And he certainly had, hadn’t he?

-Enid Blyton-