‘I know Mr. Mendham keeps his eyes in that basket over there,’ said a black-and-white dog with a bright red tongue, ‘but, as you can see, he hasn’t a blue eye left, not one.’ ‘He put his last blue eyes in my head,’ said a big white furry kitten, who had a golden bell tied about his neck. ‘For my part I don’t like blue eyes. I prefer green. They shine so well in the dark. If Mr. Mendham will give me green eyes, you may have my blue.’ At this kind offer all the toys began to call out, ‘Mr. Mendham! Mr. Mendham!’ So Mr. Mendham and the Brownies trooped into the room. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you wanted blue eyes?’ asked Sharpeyes as he wiped the tears from his little Pony’s face. ‘Of course you shall have them if Mr. Mendham is willing to make the change.’ ‘Certainly, certainly,’ agreed Mr. Mendham, who was a kind-hearted man. ‘Green eyes always look well in a cat, and there is no reason why this Pony shouldn’t have blue eyes, though I will say I never gave them to a Rocking-Horse before.’ ‘Blue eyes are so beautiful,’ murmured the Rocking-Horse Pony. ‘I couldn’t bear to think of starting out next Christmas Eve with brown eyes in my head.’ So Mr. Mendham made the change in a twinkling. The white cat was more than satisfied with his new green eyes. ‘They have a fine sparkle and gleam,’ he purred, with a proud wave of his tail. ‘Blue eyes are too girlish for me.’ And the Rocking-Horse Pony was happier than words can tell. He smiled, he rocked, he bumped about in a very ecstasy of joy. When the time came, he rocked home, with Sharpeyes on his back, in a very whirl of pleasure. ‘Blue eyes! Blue eyes!’ he sang to himself as he bumped over the snow. When Sharpeyes showed the Pony to Santa Claus and told him what had happened, Santa Claus laughed and rubbed the Rocking-Horse Pony upon his soft brown nose. ‘I know a little boy who likes blue eyes the very best of all,’ said Santa Claus, ‘and you shall go to live with him next Christmas, if you wish.’ When he heard this, the Rocking-Horse Pony was so happy he thought his heart would burst with joy. So if, next Christmas, you meet a little boy who has a Rocking-Horse Pony with bright blue eyes, you may know that the Pony was made by Brownie Sharpeyes and that he came down on Christmas Eve in Santa Claus’s sleigh straight from the Snow Palace on the very tip-top of the North Pole. THE GAY LITTLE TOWN OF BO-PEEP THE GAY LITTLE TOWN OF BO-PEEP Santa Claus stood on the front steps of his Snow Palace at the very tip-top of the North Pole. Softly, very softly, the great door behind him swung open and out rushed the Brownies, pulling on their scarlet caps, fastening their mittens, and laughing and shouting and calling as they came. ‘Santa Claus! Santa Claus!’ shouted the Brownies. ‘Here we come, Santa Claus! Here we all come!’ ‘What does this mean?’ asked Santa Claus in surprise, his eyes twinkling with fun. ‘Why aren’t you hard at work upstairs, making toys? Come, come, now!’