Enid Blyton by MR. PINK-WHISTLE INTERFERES Page A

kindness and friendliness now, after having worked so hard and well all his life. It isn't fair."
    It wasn't fair. The farmer should have gone sometimes to the field, patted the old pony, and cheered him up. He should have told him that he could live out the rest of his days in peace and sunshine. But he didn't. He just grumbled because he couldn't get any more work out of him.
    "If I could hear of anyone that wants an old pony like that I'd sell him," he said to his wife. "He's perfectly useless to me, but anyone with an old cab could still get a bit of work out of him."
    "Well, it's a good thing that there are so few horse-cabs now," said his wife. "I'd hate you to sell old Brownie to a cabman, who might whip him and try to make his poor old legs go faster than they can."
    Pink-Whistle thought a lot about the old pony. Anyone or anything in trouble made his kind heart very heavy and sad. And now he began to worry about the old lady who looked out of the window he passed every day.
    "She looks so sad and lonely. She's got the same look in her eyes as the old pony. When people get old and tired they shouldn't be allowed to be sad and lonely."
    Every day he looked at the old lady and soon he began to smile and wave as he passed. She smiled back and waved, too. Each time Pink-Whistle went to see the old pony he kept a special smile for the old lady in the window.
    Then one day he found some marigolds growing wild on a rubbish-heap at the bottom of the field where the old pony lived. "I'll take those to the old lady!" thought Pink-Whistle. So he picked them, made them into a nice little bunch, and that day, instead of passing the gate where the old lady lived, he opened it and marched up to the door!
    But nobody opened it. A voice from the window said: "I'm so sorry I can't open the door. I can't walk without help. Will you come to the window?"
    So Pink-Whistle went to the window, beamed at the old lady, and gave her the marigolds. She put them into a glass of water that stood beside her and beamed back.
    "How kind you are!" she said. "I always look for your smile as you go down the street. Where do you go?"
    Pink-Whistle told her about the old pony. The old woman listened with great interest.
    "Poor old thing," she said. "Once I used to be rich and I had a pony-cart and pony of my own, and I used to drive about. Now I am poor, and somehow I have no friends. I am a poor, helpless old woman, no use to anyone—just like the old pony!"
    "Can't you walk?" asked Pink-Whistle. "If you could get about a bit you could soon make friends!"
    "No, I can't walk," said the old lady. "There is something wrong with my legs. I did have a good friend who came in every day to take me out in my bath-chair—but now she has moved far away, and the woman who said she would come is cross and busy—too busy to take me out at all. She cleans my room for me, and helps me in and out of bed—but she can't spare the time to take me out."

    MR. PINK-WHISTLE TOOK THE OLD LADY A BUNCH OF MARIGOLDS.
    "So you never go out?" said Pink-Whistle. "Well, well—what a pity! You must be very lonely and dull. I must come and see you sometimes."
    So he went to see her, and one day he pulled out the bath-chair from the cupboard it had stood in for months and managed to get the old lady tucked up in it. Then out they went—and the first thing Pink-Whistle did was to take her to see the old pony!
    Well, you can guess how the two old things liked one another! The old lady had always loved horses—and the pony was delighted to find someone who knew how to talk to him, and click to him, and offer him a carrot. He nuzzled his brown head into her shoulder, and it was all Pink-Whistle could do to make them part.
    One day the old lady was very excited. She had had a letter from her friend—and in it was some money!
    "Look!" she said to Pink-Whistle. "Money! But I don't want money at my age. So I am going to give it all to you, dear Mr. Pink-Whistle, every bit—and you must