Look I have something to show you." I turned to the title page and showed him four penciled signatures. "This is a true story" I told him, "and this is a special copy of this book. But I told him he was right in thinking that the Phantom and Misty were real. My son was gripped by the story, and at one point during the reading, he said, "I hope that the Phantom and Misty are still alive, so I can go to Chincoteague Island and round them up!", and I had to gently explain to him that the book was published in 1947 and ponies generally don't live much more than twenty years. I think the time has come to pass her down to the next generation, chipped ear and broken hoof and all. We're heading South to visit my mom next week, and there in the basement of her house is the old collection of Breyer model horses from when my sisters and I were kids, Misty included. I'm glad it turns out you don't have to be a girl to love a book about ponies. It wasn't one I'd planned on reading aloud because I thought maybe it was too old-fashioned, and the details of the wild pony round-up tradition on Chincoteague Island might be a little esoteric for present-day youth, but it worked out well another beloved book from my childhood is now beloved of my seven-year-old boy.
This was one of those cases when bedtime arrived, and it was time to start a fresh chapter book, but I hadn't visited the library that day, and so pulled a book from my own collection off the shelves.
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