Fine. You'd best hang on tightly to the little beast. I don't know where he's going to carry you.

[And without a WHOLE lot of ceremony, Jack will lift her onto Murphy's back. The pony simply glares at him. Come on, Jack. No child has ever come to harm on his back.]

Hang on tight to the hairy bit. You're spoiled for choice, really.

[Right. That was going too far. With a snort and a light nip at Jack's arm, Murphy begins to walk forward, very careful about the girl on his back.]