"Dear me!" laughed the Sled. "Hear Hosey talk! The idea of a faucet running! It hasn't moved an inch since it came here. Why, I've got two runners that'll beat it out of sight on the side of a hill." "Yes, the down side," said the Pony. "Anything can run down hill. Even a stupid old millstone can do that. But when it comes to running up hill, I'm ahead of you all. Why, the biggest river or avalanche in the world couldn't run up hill beside me." "That's so," put in the Riding-Whip. "And you and I know who makes you do it--eh?" "I didn't say anything about that," said the Pony. "But I'll tell you one thing: if you'll come down here where I can reach you with one of my hind legs, I'll show you what nice shoes I wear." "Much obliged," said the Whip. "I don't wear shoes myself, and am not interested in the subject. But if any man who is interested in bugs wants to know how to make a horse fly, I can show him." "You are a whipper-snapper," said the Pony angrily. "Ho! ho!" jeered the Whip. "Anybody call me?" queried the Hoe, from the corner where he had been asleep while all this conversation was going on. Then they all burst out laughing, and peace was restored. "They say the Fence is worn out," put in the Sickle. "I should think it would be," replied the Rake. "It's been running all around this place night and day without ever stopping for the last twenty years." "How many miles is that?" queried the Wagon. "Well, once around is half a mile, but if it has gone around every night and every day for twenty years," said the Grindstone, "that's one mile every twenty-four hours--365 miles a year--3,650 miles in ten years, and 7,300 miles in twenty years. Quite a record, eh?" "That's a good way for a Picket-fence to go," said the Wheelbarrow. "It would kill me to go half that distance." "Well, if you live until you do go half that distance," put in the Hose, "you'll never die." "Ho! ho!" jeered the Barrow. "Somebody did call me that time!" cried the Hoe, waking up again. "I'm sure I heard my name." "Yes, you did," said the Rake. "We waked you up to tell you that breakfast would be ready in about a month, and to say that if you wanted any you'd do well to go down to the river and see if you can't buy its mouth, because if you don't, nobody knows how you can eat it." Here the loud and prolonged laugh caused Jimmieboy once more to open his eyes, and as his papa was standing by the side of the carriage holding out his hands to help him down and take him into the house to supper, the little fellow left the quarrelsome tools and horses and other things to themselves. JIMMIEBOY'S VALENTINE _JIMMIEBOY'S VALENTINE_ Jimmieboy had been watching for the postman all day and he was getting just a little tired of it. It was Valentine's Day, and he was very naturally expecting that some of his many friends would remember that fact and send him a valentine. Still the postman, strange to say, didn't come.