‘Catch him, Brownies! Catch him!’ called Santa Claus. ‘Oh, what a race!’ A race it was! For the Rocking-Horse Pony seemed fairly to skim over the ground, and behind him, blown by the wind and carried by their own swift little feet, came the Brownies, every one, for Sweet-Tooth and Crusty had joined them and were running quite as fast as any one else. The Rocking-Horse Pony seemed to know where he wanted to go. On and on he rocked over the ice and snow. Now he came to a group of low round huts made of snow, where the Eskimos lived, fathers and mothers and little boy and girl Eskimos, too. Smoke was pouring from the hole in the top of each hut, and this smoke the wind caught and gayly blew hither and yon. The little Eskimo boys and girls, bundled in fur, ran out of the huts, their long-haired dogs barking at their heels, and they all, children and dogs, stared in amazement at the galloping Rocking-Horse Pony who was followed so closely by the gay band of Brownies, laughing and shouting and waving their arms as they sped by. Now came the evergreen trees, tall and thick and green, and the Rocking-Horse Pony and the Brownies found themselves racing through a dense little wood. ‘I know where he is going!’ shouted Nimbletoes, who, with Brownie Fleetfoot, was running well in the lead. ‘I believe he is going to Mr. Mendham’s house!’ [Illustration] The news was passed down the line until the last one in the procession, little old Crusty, heard the tidings. ‘He is going to Mr. Mendham’s, we all believe!’ Soon the Brownies set up another shout. ‘There is Mr. Mendham’s house! We are right! Sharpeyes’ Pony is going to Mr. Mendham’s house.’ Between two tall trees before them there stood a little house, a little white house with a bright red chimney, green window-boxes, and a green front door. Over the door hung a sign-- MR. MENDHAM TOY TINKER [Illustration] The Brownies saw the Rocking-Horse Pony take the knocker on the green front door in his mouth and rap smartly--Rap-a-tap-tap! There was no answer, so the Rocking-Horse Pony gently pushed the door open and rocked inside. The door shut behind him with a thump. Now out behind the house, busily hanging up a basketful of clothes, were Mr. and Mrs. Mendham. They spied the Brownies, they came running forward, and when they heard about the Rocking-Horse Pony they crept into the house on tiptoe, followed by the Brownies, to see what the Pony was doing now. There he was in Mr. Mendham’s work-room, rocking round and round, looking for something with all his might and main. He looked high, he looked low, he even looked in the corners and on the floor. But at last he gave up the search and stood still in the middle of the room, and the Brownies and Mr. and Mrs. Mendham saw that the tears were rolling down his little brown face. He looked as if his heart was broken. What was the matter with the Rocking-Horse Pony? The mended toys in the work-room were trying to help the little brown Pony.