"Place looks a bit run down?" said Dad.

The house had a tin roof, with patches of rust showing, and weatherboards that needed painting. Two of the windows were cracked, and the doormat was an old, muddy sack. The sheds and horse stalls were much the same, except they had more spider webs festooned along their eaves.

"Doesn't seem to be anyone home," said Dad, "Come on, let's have a look around."

Shara got out first and stood, unfortunately, in a puddle. She shook her feet and went over to the nearest fence. Three ponies trotted towards her, sniffing and eyeing her nervously, their ears pricked forward and their bodies tensed.

"Come on," said Shara, clicking and holding her hand out, "Look Dad, they're friendly aren't they?"

"I've seen better," said Dad.

Nearly all the ponies were a light tan. There were no blacks or greys. No palominos or pied or brindled. Just a plain, creamy tan colour, like honey, or a rich brown, like chocolate.

"Aren't they beautiful!" said Shara.

"Someone's coming," said Linda.

From a shed further away, two people were walking towards them. They were both very similar in shape. Shara thought of Tweedledee and Tweedledum when she saw them and giggled. The man was smoking. He had black hair, which fell evenly, straight over all sides of his head, and a small goatee for a beard. The woman had curly hair, and her face was soft and puffy, with blotches of white where the circulation was poor.

"Gidday!" said the man holding his hand out to Shara's Dad, "Bill Clegg, and this is my wife, Norma."

"Morris Nicholson, and these are my daughters, Linda and Shara," said Dad.

The girls shook hands and waited expectantly.

"Linda here wants to buy a pony," said Dad, "Have you got anything her size?"

"Sure to," said Mr. Clegg, "We've got some older ones down in the back paddock." He started to walk away. Norma smiled weakly and stayed where she was.