without just as well as with them. All you have to do is to press your
knee against his side and he will turn, just as if you were pulling on
the rein. He's a trained pony, Walter. Did you know that?"

"That's what the man said when father bought him. Jo-Jo can walk on
his hind legs, too. But father said I mustn't try to make him do any
tricks, for fear I might get hurt."

"Hurt nothing! He wouldn't hurt a baby," objected Tad in the little
animal's defence. "I'll show you--I won't hurt him, don't be
afraid," he exclaimed leaping to the ground, stripping the rein over
the animal's head and holding it at arm's length. "If he knows how to
stand up I can make him do it. I've seen them do that in the
circus. Let me have your whip."

"I don't know about that," answered Walter doubtfully. "Yes, you may
try," he decided finally, extending the whip that he had been idly
tapping against his legging. "But don't hit him, will you?"

"Not I," grinned the freckle-faced boy, leading the pony further out
into the street. "He doesn't need to be struck."

Tad first coaxed the pony by patting it gently on the side of the
head, to which the intelligent animal responded by brushing his cheek
softly with its nose.

"See, he knows a thing or two," cried Tad. "Now, watch me!"

Standing off a few feet, the boy tapped the animal gently under the
chin with the whip.