The Story of a White Rocking Horse Part 7

"Oh! Oh! Oh!"

"What's the matter?" asked Mother, hurrying in.

"Somebody took my Doll out of bed, or else she got out herself in the night!" said Dorothy.

"She probably fell out," said Mother, with a laugh. "The Doll couldn't get out herself, and no one has been in your room."

But we know what happened, don't we?

One day, about a week after Christmas, there came a warm, sunny day.

"May I take my Rocking Horse out on the porch and ride him?" asked d.i.c.k of his mother.

"Yes," she answered.

"And I'll take my Sawdust Doll out there, and maybe Mirabell and Arnold will come over and we can have a play party," said Dorothy.

The children went out on the porch, and they could look over next door and see their two little friends.

"See how fast I can ride my horse!" called d.i.c.k to Arnold.

The boy got up on the back of the White Horse and rocked to and fro.

And the Horse traveled across the porch, as a rocking chair sometimes travels across the room.

"Oh, he's a fine Horse!" cried Arnold, as he came over to play, bringing his toy train of cars with him. And Mirabell brought her wax doll. "Let me ride him, d.i.c.k, will you?"

After d.i.c.k and Arnold had taken turns riding on the White Horse, they left him on the edge of the porch to play with the toy train. Suddenly Carlo, the fuzzy dog that had once carried the Sawdust Doll out to his kennel, hiding her in the straw, ran around the corner of the house, barking loudly.

"Bow-wow! Bow-wow!" barked Carlo, and he ran straight for the White Rocking Horse.

How it happened no one seemed to know, but Carlo upset the Horse, which tumbled down the porch steps with many a bang and b.u.mp.

"Dear me!" thought the Horse, "This is not a pleasant adventure at all!

What is going to happen?"

"Bang! b.u.mp! Crack!" sounded he rolled over and over down the steps.

"Oh, what a pain in my leg!" said White Rocking Horse to himself.

d.i.c.k ran over to his toy, and when he saw his White Horse lying on the sidewalk at the foot of the steps, the little boy cried:

"Oh, his leg is broken! Oh, the leg of my White Rocking Horse is broken! I can never ride him again!"

CHAPTER VII

IN THE TOY HOSPITAL

d.i.c.k made such a fuss out on the porch, crying, when he saw his toy lying at the foot of the steps, that the boy's mother hurried out to see what the trouble was.

"Dear me! Did you fall off?" asked Mother, as she saw the Horse lying on its side and d.i.c.k standing at the bottom of the porch steps near his toy. "Are you hurt, Sonny?"

"Oh, no, Mother. But my Horse is! My Christmas Horse is hurt."

"You can't hurt a wooden rocking horse," said Mother, as she went over to see what had happened.

"Oh, yes you can!" sobbed d.i.c.k, for he was so little a boy that he was not ashamed to cry. "My Horse's leg is broken! I can never ride him again! Oh, dear!"

Mother looked at the Horse lying on its side at the foot of the steps.

If there had been no one there to look on, the Horse might have tried to get up, even with all his pain. But, as it was against the rules to move or say anything as long as human eyes were watching, the poor White Rocking Horse just had to lie there.

"Dear me, one of the legs really is broken," said Mother, as she set the Horse upright. And, being a wooden horse with rockers under him, such as some chairs have, the Horse could stand upright, even though one of his legs was cracked clear through.

"Yes, his leg is broken, and now I can never have a ride on him any more!" sobbed d.i.c.k. "Oh, dear!"

"Oh, it isn't as bad as all that," said Mother, with a kind smile as she patted her little boy's head. "I think we can have the broken leg mended. But how did it happen? Did you ride your Horse off the porch, d.i.c.k?"

"No, Mother," he answered. "I was playing with Arnold's train, and Carlo ran around the corner, barking, and he ran between my Horse's legs, I guess, and upset him. Oh, isn't it too bad?"

"Yes; but it might be worse," replied Mother. "If _your_ leg had been broken, or Dorothy's or Mirabell's or Arnold's, it could not so easily be mended."

"Can you mend the broken leg of my White Rocking Horse?" asked d.i.c.k eagerly.

"I cannot mend it, myself," Mother answered. "But I will have Daddy take your Horse to the hospital."

"I was in the hospital once," put in Arnold, "and I had some bread and jelly."

"Will they give my Horse bread and jelly in the hospital?" asked d.i.c.k of Mother.

"Hardly that," she replied with a smile. "It is not the same kind of hospital. The one where I will have Daddy take your White Rocking Horse is a toy hospital, where all sorts of broken playthings are mended. There your Horse will be made as good as new."

"Oh, I shall be so glad if he is," said d.i.c.k.

And the White Horse himself, though he dared say nothing just then, thought how glad he would be to have his broken leg mended. Some of the splinters were sticking him, and though of course I do not mean to say that a wooden horse has the same pain with a broken leg as a boy or girl or a chicken or a rooster would have, still it is no fun.

Patrick, the gardener, came out and carried the broken-legged Rocking Horse into the front hall.

"We'll let him stand there until Daddy comes home with the auto and can take him to the hospital," said Mother.

And then it was that the White Rocking Horse had a chance to speak to the Sawdust Doll. Dorothy laid her Doll on a chair in the hall to help d.i.c.k, Mirabell and Arnold bring the toy train inside, as it was getting too cold to play out on the porch.

"I'm sorry," murmured the Doll.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "What Happened to You?" Asked White Rocking Horse.]