long, soft neck. Zeras turned her head and looked over Linda's shoulder. She had an expression of curiosity in her eye, and fun, and mischief. "Ponies can have a sense of humour," thought Shara, "I wonder what she finds amusing?" And while she stood there, looking at the pony, Shara thought for a moment that she could read the pony's mind.

"I like you better," she thought the pony was trying to say, "I would much rather have you on my back. This girl is putting the bit into my mouth like she wants to break my teeth. She doesn't care if the bridle's too tight, or the saddle's too far back."

Linda finished getting the pony ready and swung in to the saddle. She pulled hard on the reins and twisted Zeras in a half circle, then she kicked the pony into a trot.

"Don't be so rough!" said Shara.

"Shut up!" said Linda, "What do you know about it anyway?"

"You're pulling too hard!" said Shara.

"No I'm not!" said Linda, "You egg!"

"Stop it!"

"Dad!" Linda called.

"What?"

"Tell Shara to go away. She's bugging me!"

"Come inside, Shara," said Dad, "I don't want you girls fighting over that pony."

"But Dad, she's too rough on it!"

"Linda knows what she's doing," said Dad, but he wasn't an expert.

Shara dragged her feet and hung her head as she left the paddock. She went behind the hedge that grew along the fence line between the paddock and her house and watched through a hole in the branches.

"Can I stand here?" she asked her father, "I won't say anything.'"

"You'd better not say a word," said Dad.

So Shara watched. She saw how Linda forced the pony into a trot, how she screwed it round on the spot and kicked it too hard. She clenched her fists in anger as Linda used the willow stick to whack the pony on the