Well, well! The birds must be joking, for who ever heard of a bird
telling a deliberate lie? And yet it _may_ be true. There have been
artificial men,--manikins, automata, or whatever they are called,--so
why shouldn't there be artificial horses?
Come to think of it, it was not the birds who told me about them. It
was a letter; and "artificial horses" the letter said, as plainly as
could be. It told how a fine specimen had just been exhibited in the
capital of Prussia. The thing must look like a horse, too, for it is a
hobby between two high wheels (the rider sits on the saddle), and it
travels about as rapidly as a trotting horse. As I understand it,
the rider moves his legs to make the machine go, and yet it isn't a
bicycle. It goes over stony roads, turns corners, and, for aught Jack
knows, rears and kicks like any ordinary charger--that is, when it's
out of order.
I should like to see one among the boys of the red school-house. How
they would make it go!