Western Reserve chronicle. [volume] (Warren, Ohio) 1855-1921, 1855-09-26

Mrs. Jones, who expected us. had
breakfast ready, after binding up my
hair, l determined not to think of the re-
turn. but to enjoy myself as much as
possible.
As for that Addy Loomis, she hoped
around like bird, plying me, and talk
ing of the delights of friding on horseback
at the same time. Phil asked me to be
helped to second saucer fstrawberries,
but insisted upon her taxing more. 1 felt
that my kingdom had departed.
How dreaded the return home only
the initiated victim of a hard trotting
horse can tell. When once seated, 1
thought l should never be able to move
again.
l did not trust to my skill in mounting
from Phil's hand this time, but got on
Old Nick's back in the good old ortho-
dox fashion-from chair.
My return con- menced with the old
bounce, bounce, enlivened occasionally
with flap of the arms, very much like
that of the wings Of rooster before he
crows.
At last 1 got out of all patience, and
taking the whip, which l had hung on
the crutch of the saddle, not knowing
how to hold it and my horse too, 1 gave
Old Nick half a dozen cuts, as hard as
my strength and temper would let me lay
on.
The beast gave spring, put his head
down between his fore legs, 1 thought,
and was off.
L was charmed with the experiment.
the gait was so easy and shouted back
in my triumphant delight to those had
left l never looked around, but heard
the clatter of horses feet behind me for
awhile, and then pleased myself with
the idea, that Ihad distanced them all.
On and on, went Old Nick and myself,
l occasionally laughing in my delight at
the rapid motion and easy pace, and CIV
ing the animal cut if found any indi-
cation of his tagging.
Women and children rushed out of cot
tages at our approach, and the men
working in the fields threw down their
implements, and hurried to the road side
But what cared Old Nick and for their
admiration How we gloried in our
Wild -huntsman gallop, and how stiringly
the fresh morning air whizzed through
our ears. took no heed of the way, for
Iphilosophically concluded that my horse
knew it better than myself, and on we
went.
At last 1 noticed that we had left the
high road, and turned up narrow lane.
l had not time to wonder at our where
abouts, when, in the midst of his full ca
reer, Old Nick stopped, with his head
over fence.
He nearly had me over it too. The
shock was awful, and found myself en-
tirely off the saddle, on the top of the
pommel, with both arms around the neck
of the horse After the first moment of
bewildernient was over, l cautiously made
my way back to the seat of the saddle.
Then came the tug of war with the
beast Take his head from over the
fence, or his eyes off that green field, he
would not.
Ny ride had given me courage. 1
pulled and whipped. and coaxed, all to
no purpose. The horse was as immova-
bic, and as deaf to my tones of endear.
ment, as the bronze one in the equestri-
an statue of Washington.
Presently prolonged Whitney and
frightful shaking of the animals whole
body, nearly startled me from nv seat.
l looked across the field, and answering
the salutation, there came great black
beast, full tilt, tail aud name flying, as
he made his way toward US. | expected
every moment that Nick would attempt
to take the fence to meet him, but the inn
perturbable old fellow only gave a slight
grunt of satisfaction. Then they put
their heads together, and appeared to
hold long communication by means of
some kind of equine magnetic telegraph.
Ipulled and whipped and coaxed away
again, all to no purpose. l did not know
then, what l afterwards discovered, that
Old Nick had vivid recoIleclions of hav-
ing passed all the spring in that same
green field, with his ugly black compan.
ion.
would net give up, but l was begin
ming to tire of this mastery inactivity
when to my great relief, l saw Phil Dar-
rah and some of the gentlemen coming
rapidly down the lane.
.Ihank Heaven! you are not dasheu
% pieces" was the first exclamation |
heard.
looked around triumphanlly and said,
"0h, | have had delightful ride
How much better Old Nick's canter is,
you call it canter, don't you?) how
much easier it is than that hOrrid trot."
'He never cantered step in his life
lie was running away with you, said
Phil. evidently out of all patience.
"Was Re? well, didn't know it. | !
wish he would always run away with me,
hen, was my cocl rejoinder. J.