<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</SPAN></span></p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<h2><SPAN name="THE_WOODEN_HORSE" id="THE_WOODEN_HORSE"></SPAN>THE WOODEN HORSE.</h2>
<p>"Come and have a ride," the big brother said.</p>
<p>"I am afraid," the little one answered;
"the horse's mouth is wide open."</p>
<p>"But it's only wooden. That is the best of a
horse that isn't real. If his mouth is ever so wide
open, he cannot shut it. So come," and the big
brother lifted the little one up, and dragged him
about.</p>
<p>"Oh, do stop!" the little one cried out in terror;
"does the horse make that noise along the floor?"</p>
<p>"Yes."</p>
<p>"And is it a real noise?"</p>
<p>"Of course it is," the big brother answered.</p>
<p>"But I thought only real things could make real
things," the little one said; "where does the
imitation horse end and the real sound begin?"</p>
<p>At this the big brother stood still for a few
minutes.</p>
<p>"I was thinking about real and imitation things,"
he said presently. "It's very difficult to tell which
is which sometimes. You see they get so close
together that the one often grows into the other,
and some imitated things become real and some
real ones become imitation as they go on. But I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</SPAN></span>
should say that you are a real coward for not
having a ride."</p>
<p>"No, I am not," the little one laughed; and,
getting astride the wooden horse, he sat up bravely.
"Oh, Jack, dear," he said to his brother, "we will
always be glad that we are real boys, or we too
might have been made with mouths we were never
able to shut!"</p>
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