Sally of the Rocking Horse.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 7, 16 February 1907, Page 38

Sally of the Rocking Horse.

BY

L. T. MEADE,

(Author of “A World for Girls,” “A Madcap, etc., etc.) She was called by this name at home for the simple reason that she was abominably selfish with regard to the rocking-horse. She took, in short, possession of it, and kept the other children more or less at bay. She was not a nice child. This must be explained at once. Ralph, aged six, was afraid of Sally, although he feared nothing and no one else in all the wide world. Baby Joan invariably sat on Nurse’s knee when Sally was on the rocking-horse, Sally performed the most wonderful feats as she rode the big wooden horse. She looked excited and quite splendid on these occasions. She had very black hair which used to fly out all round her head, and great black eyes and a determined little mouth, and she was intensely full of self, and, in short, Ralph and Joan were much happier when Sally was not in the nursery.

It was the same downstairs. 'When Sally appeared at dessert she had a way of walking boldly into the room as though she did not fear anyone or anybody. She would take the seat she liked best near the person she happened to fancy for the minutes, and request in a calm steady voice for a constant supply of chocolates or candied fruits or any other good things that happened to be on the table. She was not exactly rude downstairs, but she was defiant. She said boldly that she hated being kissed. Even her mother’s kisses she merely received with toleration, and she and her father had a compact that they were only to embrace each other once a year—that was on Sally’s birthday. The servants were a little afraid of her. The guests were happiest when she was not in the room. The nursery party enjoyed themselves immensely during her absence, and even her very gentle and kind mother felt uncomfortable in Sally’s presence. So it was determined when “Naughty Sally”—which was her invariable name in the household —passed her tenth birthday that she was to go to school.

“School may do something for her,” said Uncle Joe, who was her godfather, and who disliked her Very mueh. “It may teach her to care for someone. What. Sally wants is to cafe for someone. I suppose she is a fine character. but we have never yet discovered it.” Sally went to "school when' she wa» ten, and it must be owner! that the fam-

ily in Queen’s Gate were rather glad than otherwise. Ralph could now ride the rocking-horse, and little Joan even could be lifted on the back of that gallant steed by kind Nurse and have a good time while Ralph gently moved the horse up and down. The school that Sally went to was situated a little outside London. It was a very small school: there were only six girls in it altogether. Sally was the second youngest: the youngest of all was only seven years of age. She was called by her companions by the queer name of Peterkins. She was a little dark girl who had been bom in India, and was never gay and strong like the rest of her schoolfellows. In* consequence Peterkins was treated very kindly by Miss Colville, the headmistress, and was given every sort of luxury. She had a dear little sitting-room to herself, with a sofa and a deep easy chair, and when she was not well enough to be with her companions she used to lie on the sofa and look at her storybooks. J’eterkins could only jead very simple xyords, so the story-books had to be in large print, and were, in short, mostly composed of pictures. But Peterkins had a mind full of pretty fancies, and, as she lay on her sofa, she made up stories for herself out of the pictures, and was always happy and smiling, and ready to be pleased with anything that came in her way. Naughty Sally had not been two hours in the school before Peterkins was told all about her. It was Desire who crept in softly and sitting down at the foot of Peterkins’ sofa began to tell her. “Oh,” said Desire, ‘well shall have a. time in future! You can’t even guess what has happened. Peterkins.” “I am not going to try,” said Peterkins. “I have had a lovely, lovely morning looking at my story-pictures. There is one of an old woman: and what do yon think she does? She cuts the old moon up into little bits and pastes the bits on the sky to make stars. Isn't it lovely? 1 ’spect that’s what does happen.” “Oh, I don’t care nothing about the stupid old moon,” replied Desire. “Listen and I will tell you. You know the new girl has come.” “Yes, 1 heard there was a new girl coming,” said Peterkins. “She has come!” said Desire. “She is —perfectly—awful! ” “Awful —is she?” said Peterkins. “Yes. I wonder what Miss Colville will do with her. She said ‘no’ to every single thing that was asked her this morning. She was asked if she liked reading, and she said ‘no.’ Then she was asked if she knew any French, and she said ‘no.’ She was asked if she ’ could play the piano, and she said ‘no.’ ” “Well, perhaps she couldn’t,” interrupted Peterkins. “She couldn’t say ‘Yes’ if she couldn't—now could she, Desire ?”

“Of course not,” said Desire; “but it’ was the sort of way she said the words •—jilst though she were proud of herself. MiSs Colville got quite red at last, and said. ‘ls there anything you can say yes about!’ And she said at once, ‘Oh, certainly ; if you ask me if I hate school, I can say yes.’ Now,- -Peterkine, what do you think of that sort of a girl?” Peterkins’ gentle little face was alt aglow with excitement, -■ • “She must be wonderful,” she sa id.

“I ’spect she’s nut very happy,” she continued. . "Oh, .but that’s just what she is. She’s as happy as possible. She looks it, I mean. We have been talking to her in the playground, and she has been saying ‘no, no, no’ all the time. . I wish she hadn’t come. She says she won’t; join in our games, and she won’t learn her lessons, and she won’t be nice to any of us. She says they call her ’Naughty. Sally’ at home, or ‘Sally of the Rockinghorse.’” "What did she mean by that?” “Oh, she says that she is so’selfish, she keeps the rocking-horse to herself. She says she means to be just as selfish at school as at home, and that she doesn’t want any- of us to love her.” "What is she like?” asked Peterkins, after a pause. - “Oh, ugly—quite ugly,” said Desire. “She has black eyes, and they are so fierce—and quantities of thick black hair, and a stout figure, nearly as broad as it is long. She is ten years old, and she is almost a dunce. There, I must go now, although I’d like to tell you about her. She is a—a caution; that’s all I can say.” Peterkins lay very still when Desire had left her. Her head was aching—it often did ache. That was why she was required to lie down so much. It ached rather more than ever now. Her thoughts were busy. They were so completely occupied with the new little schoolgirl that they forgot to think anything more about the wonderful old woman who cut up the moon and made it into stars. It M as Peterkins’ M ay to be unselfish. She was just as unselfish as Naughty Sally was the reverse. She was wondering now in what sort of May she could make matters a little pleasant for Naughty Sally; for she had a queer sort of idea in her little brain that naughty jieople, notwithstanding all their brave words, Mere fearfully unhappy. “Naughty Sally must feel just dreadful,” thought Peterkins. “I do wish I could see her. Perhaps I’d find out something. Perhaps I could help her.” The youngest Miss Colville came presently into Peterkins’ room carrying a tray in her hand which contained some tea very carefully prepared. “Now, Peterkins,” she said, “you must eat your new-laid egg and all this fresh bread and butter. I shall be quite vexed if you don’t.” "Please —Miss Colville,” said Peterkins. "What is it, my dear child?” “Do you think that 1 could see Naughty Sally?” “Naugthy Sally?” said Miss Colville. “What do you mean?” "Oh,” said Peterkins, “she is the new little naughty girl. I am sure she must be frightfully unhappy. Please—Miss Colville, 1 should so like to see her.” ' You mean little Sara Marsden?” said Miss Colville, after a pause. “Yes.” "I regret to say I greatly fear that ‘Naughty Sally ’ is a good name for her.' She is going to be a most troublesome child. In fact, Peterkins. I don’t mind telling you that she has already disobeyed my dear sister and refused to learn any of her lessons, and in consequence although it is her first day at school, we have been obliged to lock her up. She is in her own room on the next landing, and she must stay there until she begs my sister’s pardon.” “Oh,” said Peterkins. She looked exceedingly wistful. " Do you think,” she said, after a pause, “ that—l—l might »o and see her ? ” , “ I am not at all sure. I think it would be exceedingly bad for you.” “ It .wouldn’t be a bit bad for me.” said Peterkins. “I’d like it just awfully. I haven't seen her at all.” " But she is such a remarkably rough child,” said Miss Colville. “Really, my dear Peterkins^--:—” Peterkins beautiful soft grey eyes filled with tears. " 1 should so like if. ar.l I never was afraid of anybody,” she said, " You, are a dear little thing,” said Miss Colville, stooping to kiss her. “ I wish with all my heart that other child was like you. If she were. matters would ba very different from what they are now'. Well, Peterkins, have your own way; only don't stay long.,J have locked the .door of Naughty Sally's room, but you can easily unlock it for. yourself. Take your tea first though.';dear.” ■ Miss,Colville left the room, and Peterkins lay for a short time longer on the eofa. Presently she ate a little of her bread and butter, ami took a few- sips of

her tea. Then, very carefully lifting the small tray and carrying her wonderful picture book in her hand, she slowly and steadily ascended the stairs to the next floor." She knew quite well the room where Naughty Sally was shut up, and, putting her tray on the floor, she knocked with her little thin fingers. There came no answer. Just for a minute Peterkins’ brave spirit quailed. Then She turned the key in the lock, opened the door a few inches, and popped her little face in. A stout girl was seated on her own bed at the far end of the room, 'lhe girl was swaying backwards and forwards, her hair hanging wildly about her, her eyes looking very big and fierce. . "I am on my roeking-liorse,” she said .when she saw Peterkins’ pale, pretty little faee, “ and those who don’t want to be ridden over had best not come into the room.” She swayed more violently than ever. '“Gee up! Gee up! Go on, Firefly,” she shouted. “Faster, faster, Firefly!” Peterkins lifted the tray from the floor, hugged her book tightly, and entered the room. • ■' “I am one of the girls "at* the school,” she said. “ I am the youngest girl. I have brought you up my tea, ’cause I thought you might be thirsty. That’s not. a pretty play of yours at all. I know a much prettier one. I can ’splain to you ’bout it out of this book. S’pose you were the old woman who lives on the Catskill Mountains, and s’pose you hung up the new moon in the sky, and cut up the old one into stars. That would be a jolly sort of play —at least, so it seems to me.” Peterkins’ words and the look in her eyes and the intense earnestness of her manner suddenly aroused the attention of Naughty Sally. She had never seen anyone the least like this quaint little girl before. “You don’t want to.kiss me, that's a comfort,” she said, and she jumped off the bed. “ I’m mad hungry,” was her next remark. “ I’ll.eat up all you have brought if you don’t mind?” “ No, ’course, I want you to,” said Peterkins. So Naughty Sally drank the tea and demolished the bread and butter, and attacked the nfw-laid egg. When all the contents of Peterkins’ tray had been consumed, Sally turned and looked at her companion. “ You live here ? ” “ ’Course,” said Peterkins. “You look lather —well, better than most of ’em,” remarked Sally. “ Y’ou ain’t afraid of me, are you?” Peterkins laughed. “ Not a bit,” she said. “Then jump on the bed,” said Sally. “ You must help me.” said Peterkins. “ I’m not good at jumping.” Sally sprang on the bed herself, and with much unnecessary violence lugged Peterkins cp to sit by her side. “Now—that's right,” said Sally. “Tell me all about the old woman who cut up the old moon into stars.” “ I have a picture of her here in my book,” said Peterkins. “Open it ar.l let's look,” said Sally. Peterkins opened the book. The two children bent over if. Sally burst into a loud laugh. " Why, she's something like me! ’’ she said. " What else can she do?” “Oh. all kinds of things,” said Peterkins. “She can spin clouds out of cobwebs and make them fall in showers, causing the grass to spring ami the fruits io ripen, ami the coin to grow an inch an hour; or. if she is angry, she can brow up clouds as black as ink and sit in the middle, of them like a big spider, ar.l when those clouds break there’s such a terrible rain that people are nearly drowned. See, I have a. picture of this, too; I will show it io yop.” Naughty Sally laughed again with glee. “She's wonderful, like me!” was her next remark. Petefkins went on talking. , She was always great at felling -stories, ami while, she told sonic straight from the beautiful book she told a good many out of her own little head., They were pretty stories, some of them, and some, again, were enough to frighten the bravest children; for Peterkins was clover and had a very strong imagination, Sally listened, glued to-the bed in wonder. • • “ Yom are nice,” she said at last; drawing a deep breath. “ I am glad y.mi> are nt the school. Why weren't you in the schoolroom when the rest uf them were s»*eso<-hot'ridpt -

“ They are all nice, every one of ’em," _>id Peterkins, stoutly. " I don't think so," replied Naughty Hally. “ 1 hale ’em all like anything—• ’xeept you.” Peterkins gave a gentle sigh. *• 1 love ’ein,’ < she said. “ You don't,” said Naughty Sally. “ I do,’’ said Peterkins. Naughty Sally sat very still. After a time she said: “ If you was now, this very minute, to make me a promise that youVI hate ’em all—every single one of ’em —l—l’d let you kiss me.” Peterkins looked hack at her with great gentleness. “ But I don't want to kiss you at all, Naughty Sally,” she said. Naughty Sally, perhaps for the first time in all her life, felt really snubbed. J’eterkins slipped down with great dignity from the bed. “ I am going.” she said. “ I have told you ’bout the old woman and the stars, and a lot of other stories, and I can tell you plenty of ’em again whenever you like. 1 am real sorry you are naughty, for it must make you feel so dreadful sad. It’s much nicer to be good. I am not good really—but I try to be. You don’t try to be. and that's why you are —so terrible sad! Good-bye, naughty Sally. I if you like to come to my room I'll tell you more stories another day.” Peterkins crept downstairs. She took her empty tray with her, and also the book which contained the story of the old squaw who lived on the Catskill Mountains. When Alisa Colville came later in the evening into Peterkins’ room she was pleased to see that the tray was empty, but she made no remark. She then went up to interview Naughty Sally. She opened the door and went in. That voting person was standing by the window. She had combed out her hair and washed her face. In consequence she did not look nearly so wild. Alias Colville felt Suddenly quite hopeful. " Are you going to be a good girl? ” she said. “ Are you going to tell my sister that von are sorry?’’

“ If 1 do,” said Naughty Sally, “ mav I ” “ I can make no conditions," interrupted Alias Colville. “If you say your are sorry, my sister will forgive you, and you can stay at the school. If you don't, it will be my sister’s painful duty to send you baek to Queen’s (late to-morrow morning.” “ Oil,” said Sally. She thought for a minute. She was never very long in making up her mind. When she had made it up, she crossed the room quickly and put her firm, fat little hand into Aliss Colville’s. “ I will go straight down and get it done now,” she said. “ All right,” said Afiss Colville. They entered the elder Aliss Colville’s private sitting-room. “Sara Marsden has come to say she is sorry, sister,” remarked the lady. “Yes, I am sorry,” said Naughty Sally at once in a very firm tone, “and if you will let me go up and sit with Peterkins, I will try to—please you a little bit in future.” “Oh, then, it is Peterkins’ doing!” thought Aliss Colville. “Wonderful, extraordinary child.” She was a wise woman, and in her lifetime had had a great deal to do with little girls of all sorts and descriptions. She knew that Naughty Sally would not be broken in all at once. So she kissed her and accepted her apology and also said: “This is your first day at school. You may go up to Peterkins and sit with her for a little, but you must promise that you will not tire her.” “Ob, no; I won’t do that,” said Sally, and her black eyes sparkled as she shook out her thick mane of black hair. A few minutes later she was seated on the footstool by Peterkins' side. “Now,” she said, “go on about the

old woman.” Peterkins smiled. She made an effort to speak, but, instead of speaking, she only smiled again. “Why, whatever is it?” said Sally. “I believe I'm ’bout tired,” said Peterkins.

“Oh!” said Naughty Sally. “Then it’s ’bout my turn to make things jolly for you. Shall I tell you about the rocking-horse, and how frightened Ralph gets, and how Joan cries?” “First,” said Peterkins—“Yes—first?” enquired Sally. “Has you done what I wanted, ’bout —'bout—Aliss Colville?”

“Oh yes; I did it ’cause of you. 1 thought of what you said about naughty girls being so tremendous miserable • —I expect it’s true. 1 never liked nobody—that is. awful much—till I met you. May 1 be your—sort of—sort of chum?” “Oh yes!” said Peterkins. “Then,” said Naughty Sally. “I’ll have to take eare of you: see if I don’t. You are not to speak one single word, ’cause you are so precious tired; but I’ll tell you all about Ralph and little Joan. You’ll have to obey me if I have to obey you.” Ibis was the very simple way in which Peterkins got an influence over Naughty Sally. So that by slow degrees some of Peterkins’ sweet nature seemed to enter into the heart of the other child, and some of Sally’s funny bold ways also did Peterkins good. When Sally went home for her first holidays she announced to Ralph and Joan that they were welcome to ride the rocking-horse, for that she herself had found much better employment. “There’s an old woman that cuts the old moon up into stars, and hangs the new ones up in the sky,” she said. “I ■heard about her at school, and there’s a girl there that I love; and—and I’m not going to be Rocking-horse Sally or Naughty Sally any more.”