Over in a corner sat Merrythought, the very best toy-maker of them all, and beside him stood Sharpeyes, the little errand boy, who picked up pins and threaded needles and found lost scissors for all the other Brownies. But for the past week, as a special treat, Sharpeyes had been working upon a toy, too. Merrythought had showed him how to make a Rocking-Horse, and now the gay little prancing steed stood before them finished, except for a leather bridle that Sharpeyes was trying to fit into the Pony’s mouth. He was a little brown Pony with a long brown tail and a wavy brown mane. His mouth was a bright, bright red. He wore a yellow saddle fastened by neat little straps. And in his head there sparkled two dark brown eyes, quite the prettiest brown eyes, Sharpeyes thought, that a little Pony had ever worn. But, in spite of this, there was something about those pretty brown eyes that did not please the Rocking-Horse Pony. And this is the way he showed his feeling about it. The first thing that morning, when Merrythought and Sharpeyes went to work on the Rocking-Horse Pony, Sharpeyes said, ‘I think I will give my Pony brown eyes, Merrythought, because they will match his brown coat so well.’ So into the little Pony’s head went the dark brown eyes. This was the first time the Pony had been able to see, you know, and Sharpeyes and Merrythought both laughed to watch him stare in pleasure and astonishment round the work-room, already fairly well filled with toys. The little Rocking-Horse Pony looked at Santa Claus, he looked at the Brownies, he looked at the toys. Then slowly and taking plenty of time the Rocking-Horse Pony began to rock himself all around the room. He stopped before the woolly lambs and stared earnestly into their mild brown eyes. He rocked round to the furry rabbits and gazed at their eyes of ruby-red. He studied the pussy-cats and the toy dogs, the tigers and the elephants, the Teddy bears with their eyes of yellow and brown and black. But when he reached the corner where Kindheart was at work upon his baby dolls, each one with eyes of beautiful bright blue, then the Rocking-Horse Pony stood still before them and quite refused to move. He shook himself impatiently when Sharpeyes called him to come. He did not turn his head when Merrythought snapped his fingers and said, ‘Here, Pony! Here, sir, come!’ He not only stood still before the dolls, but he looked and he looked at their lovely blue eyes. And the next moment, with a wink and a blink, the Pony’s own brown eyes flew out of his head and landed upon the floor! ‘Good gracious!’ exclaimed Merrythought. ‘Put them in again, Sharpeyes, as fast as you can.’ Into the little Pony’s head went the dark brown eyes again. But--would you believe it?--in less than no time the brown eyes lay upon the floor once more, and the pony’s red mouth wore a satisfied smile that seemed to say, ‘Now see! I’ve done it again.’