The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1878-06-05
A FIERY STEED.

For once May gave promise Of being
q May worthy If the many beautiful
songs which have been sungi in her praise.
She came dancing along after her sister
April-who had just left in a shower of
tears-with q bright smile upon her
lips, and q wondrous rainbow halo about
her head.
Along a pleasant, winding, lonely
country road, with splendid great apple
and pear trees standing on either side,
and the spring flowers dotting the green
carpet SO thickly that the green is almost
hidden, comes slowly, on this poets
May-day, o diminutive, old, odd-looking
white horse, drawing a small market
wagon filed with household furniture,
accompanied by an enormous shaggy
Newfoundland dog and rs pretty a coun-
try maid as ever MIXED a COW or made a
pat of golden butter.
The broad. brimmed straw hat that
she wears shades her low brow to which
ciings babyish rings of hair the color of
the glossy, satin. smooth buttercups, 8
pair of innocently roguish eyes, cheeks
brown with an underlying tinge of rose,
a charming r%ed-lipped mouth, and a
firm, round chin.
Across the brow however, at this no.
ment fits the shadow OF a frown, and a
look of comic pelplexity comes into the
sweet young face. The odd-looking
horse has stopped in the middle of the
road, and remains perfectly motionless,
staring directly before him, a v when
he bends his head to take a nibble at the
fower-thick grass, as though suddenly
oblivious of every thing under the sun
except the tranquility Of the June-like
May afternoon.
ooh, Charley Charley go on--do !!
that's a dear !" coa1es the young girl,
coming to his side and gently patting
his head with her little brown ungloved
hand; but Charley merely whisks a too
familiar fly away with his forlorn old
tail, and makes no furthur sign.
"Charley, good horse, Charley-oh !!
why didn't I bring some carrots with
me?-Charley, you bad, bad fellow, if
you don't 60 on, I'll whip you as sure as
you stand there. Come, be O darling"
And thus she alternately begs and
threatens, Lion assisting in dog Ian
guage, with all occasional dash at the
heels of his obstinate equine friend !;
but Charley refuses to "be a darling"
plants his feet more firmly than ever,
and never stirs !; and at last, with an air
OF resignation, she goes back to the
path, seats herself on a rude seat formed
by nature of the gnarled roots of a mis-
shapen old tree, and waits patiently for
at least ten minutes. At the end of this
time Charley looks about with a just
waked-up expression in his eyes, as who
should say: "Dear! dear |! T quite for
got there was work to be done" and
starts off with quick steps that gradually
become slower and slower.
With a sigh OF relief the young girl
arises and follows-Lion, bounding back
from the wood, where he has been max
ing hasty explorations, having it in his
mind that his mistress is not to be left
without his protection for more than
two minutes at a time, takes his place at
her side-and the perplexed look fades
away into a smile that brings to light
two rows of pearl-white teeth.
But, alas the smile is premature. In
another en- minutes, again overcome by
the beauty and peacefulness Of the day,
Charley falls into a r~everie, stops once
more, and once more refuses most de-
idedly to "go on"
And in this manner does that dreadful
horse behave for q whole hour, making
short progresses and long pauses, until
finally coming to the conclusion that
there had been quite enough of this sort
of thing, he deliberately drags the wagon
o the side of the road, takes up his
, station beneath a wide-spreading oak,
and proceeds to MUNICH the young grass
at his feet, with a look in his eyes that
says as plainly as words "From this
spot move me if you can"
"Oh, Charley! Charley! how can
you ?" begins the young girl, loudly and
Indignantly, following him with small
brown hands clasped be%seechingly.
ooh, you wicked, wicked Charley"
"Did you call me?" aJked a mascu-
line voice, to her great establishment;
and as with a slight start she turns. in
the direction of the voice she sees n
young man walking rapidly toward her,
TIE sound of his approaching footsteps
having been completely lost in the in
curing bow-wows of her canine guar
dian. "Did you call me ?" he repeats.
ono, sir" she replies, blushing pref
tily, and looking at him with frank,
child-like eyes. 81 was speaking to the
horse. Be still, Liou."
"Beg pardon. I thought for al in
slant you were speaking to me. It seems
I have the honor of being e namesake Of
your fiery steed. But you are in trou-
bic. What is the matter? Can 1 help
you in any way?"
"There's nothing very serious the
matter" she says, with a smile. owe
are moving to day, and father went on
ahead e long while ago, having some
business to settle with our new landlord,
and he must be at this very moment
waiting for me at the new house, and
wondering what in the world has become
Of me. You see, we nave no boys in our
family, and the other girls are younger
than myself, and father and mother both
thought-this being q very quiet road
that Lion and T could look after Charley
and the furniture; but Charley, who
generally behaves very we'll, has been
awfully contrary, and has stopped every
few moments, and the consequence is
we have been already Two hours on a
Journey that should have taken Us but
one, and there's just as long q distance
to 20 yet; and with Charley-oh, you
wicked horse !-standing under that tree,
I don't know how we are ever to get to
G~rasstown."
"It's almost as bad a plight as the
old m WAS in with her pig, when he
wouldn't go under the stile, and she
was afraid she couldn't get home that
night" laughs the yourg mana nice
looking fellow he is, with gentleman
stamped on every feature OF his hand
some face. "But suppose I cut you a
switch? Perhaps that, used with dis
erection, might have some influence on
the fiery steed."
"Oh, no, that would never do she
saws, shaking her head emphatically.
"Charley was never whipped in his
life. He'd be so scared at the very
sight of a switch that I believe he'd III
away"
"Wouldn't that be q desirable thing
under the circumstances? asks the
Young man, with a broad smile, the idea
OF the old horse, whose principal desire
appeared to be not to move at all, run
.L;no him 90 inaYnressiblv