Nobody can tell. For Brownie Kindheart felt the cold air on his doll babies and closed the window. And just then back came Merrythought and Sharpeyes with a pot of Mr. Mendham’s glue. Neatly and firmly the brown eyes were glued in, this time to stay, though the naughty little Pony rocked and pranced to show that he did not like it at all. But Sharpeyes was pleased. ‘He is a beautiful Pony,’ said Sharpeyes with pride. ‘I will put on his bridle now and then he will be finished.’ But the Rocking-Horse Pony did not want to wear his bridle. He shut his mouth tight and tossed his head. He rocked himself to and fro with a thump and a bump. It was plain to be seen that the Rocking-Horse Pony did not wish to wear a bridle. And with a sudden toss and jerk of his head he managed to break the bridle quite in two. ‘Oh!’ exclaimed Sharpeyes, unexpectedly tumbling backward and sitting down hard upon the floor. ‘Oh! What shall we do?’ [Illustration] ‘Fetch a new bridle out of the store-room,’ answered Merrythought, helping his friend to his feet. ‘Come along and I will show you where they are.’ Now every one in the work-room was as busy as could be. No one saw that Sharpeyes and Merrythought had left the room. Much less did they notice the Rocking-Horse Pony, who now rocked quietly over to the door, moved out into the hall, and started down the stairs with a thump! thump! thump! Just as softly as he could manage, you may be sure. The first one to spy the Rocking-Horse Pony was Nimbletoes, still busy at sweeping the Palace front steps. Down the steps behind Nimbletoes’ back bumped the Pony, and then off he started over the snow at a rocking, galloping canter that surprised even himself, it carried him over the ground at such a pace. In the mean time Nimbletoes stood staring. He couldn’t believe his eyes. For a whole half-minute he stood there, leaning on his broom, his eyes and his mouth open wide. Then Nimbletoes gave a great leap into the air. ‘Hi, there!’ he shouted up at the work-room windows. ‘Hi, there! Sharpeyes! Merrythought! Your Pony has run away! Brownies! Brownies! Come! Come!’ At this loud shouting all the Brownies, and Santa Claus, too, rushed to the work-room windows and looked out. Up from the kitchen scampered Sweet-Tooth, leaving the very-black licorice drops to his band of little cooks. Out of the stable hurried little Crusty, his scarlet cap tipped over one ear and the reindeer’s hair-brush clutched in his hand. They all saw a strange sight--the Rocking-Horse Pony rocking swiftly away over the snow and after him Brownie Nimbletoes, using his broom as a staff, taking great flying leaps and bounds, the wind lifting him off his feet time and time again. ‘My Pony! My Pony!’ called Sharpeyes, running toward the door. ‘Oh, Merrythought! Oh, Brownies! Help me, do!’ At this, all the Brownies trooped after him, down the stairs, out the front door, and over the snow, while Santa Claus stood on the steps, laughing and waving them on.