The Sunday morning news. [volume] (Jersey City [N.J.]) 1886-1891, 1890-12-21

9pA+N.
norther, nearly strangled me. Wh-hy
don't you st-opp-n?'
ssAll right, my boy" Tom answered
cheerily through his set teeth; and he
braced every muscle afresh while the
cruel lasa descended on the tagging
horses. IAN right you know must
bring em in quiet for Uncle Bob to see,
So. lads, so-o-oi now steadyF' One long
sway Of his broad back brought them
down to q canter, then into swinging
trot, and turning into tho mayors lane,
we drew uI at the door.
.sTherei hold the ribbonsl / won't be
gone a second. Bets ready, know
and, forcing the reins into my reluctant
hands, Tom sprang out and disappeared
III the doorway.
Now, after all my TRADE about racing
and sleighing and such stuff, one might
reasonably suppose me very Phaeton,
or at least Hiram Woodruff. But /
was always strong in theories and--in
confidence: that stuff was all talk pure
imagination. Practically, never was
the least bit horsey in my tastes, and al
ways hated to drive unless / knew my
beast to be perfectly harmless. In fact,
ever felt a tingle of brotherly sym
pathy for that bard of Cockaigne who
sang:
There's something in a horse
That can always honor, but never can fndorse.
Neither was I ambitious of the fate of
Phaeton; so, keeping one eye fixed on
1&t no
sorrels heels, I went hand over hand up
the taut reins until felt safe to straddle
the front seat, and finally brace myself
against the dasher. The gray still kept
his head out and bore steadily on the
bit. but the sorrel seemed to have had
enough go in the late scamper and
pulled dead against him. Congratu-
ating myself that the doctors horse
acted as counter irritant on the
drawing propensities of his mate, be-
gan to be less entirely miserable in my
new position. tucked the buffalo care
fully round my legs, and by the time
Miss Bettie's laugh rang out from the
doorway, / actually plucked up spirit to
turn one eye upon her. But the other
was fixed ON the gray's ears like the optic
of the ancient mariner, even while I
nodded with a dismal affectation of jol-
lity. And Mayor Blythe was saying:
ssAnd you're quite sure they are safe,
are your"
ssGentle as lambs, sir, as far as I
know" Tom answered, simply. But
ask the man that handles 'enl. He drove
them from the stable" Had that young
officer been studying the READY Liar,
or Perjurer's Companion?
s.Why, you can see they are, papa,
dear. Icould drive them myself, couldn't
I?' and Miss Bettie's eyes were turned
on me.
When Tom had spoken, my inmost
soul was torn with burning desire to
do my duty, to throw myself upon the
mayors breast and pour out my passion
ate belief that it was felony, wilful muir
der, suicide, to gol Now. had the reply
jeopardized my IMMORTAL part for all
eternity. I could not have answered that
gurgling voice, thrilling through me
like rich Burgundy, otherwise than by
saying:
Gentle as kittens, Miss Bette; hardly
fresh even, Mr.. Blythe And l chuckled
with rueful hilarity. Then that internal
gray, as if in Judgment, nearly took my
shoulder ont of the socket
81 knew they were, papa, dear. He
would never risk me with them else; and,
you see, he is driving" was drunken,
besotted, Wild with the haschish of that
emphasized pronoun. Those wondrous
eyes shot me glance of thanks; the tiny
hands clapped in glee, and closing on
each side the gray whiskers, drew the
old mans face down to the ripe lips. A
clicking kiss, seemingly all around me
in the sharp air. drove me perfectly
drunk with envy. l was wild enough
to seize the whip Tom had thrown care
lessly on the back seat; but even in the
madness of that supreme moment / had
method enough left to keep it far back
out of the gray's sight.
''How impatient he looks, tucked up
in his drivers percht'' Tom said, airily,
to his uncle. IF the horses were only
half as much so we might have lively
ride"
l saw, out Of the far corner Of mine,
Mr.. Blythe's eyes travel rather hesitat-
ingly over the tense muscles of the gray.
oh how my soul went lin wild yearn-
ing that he might insist on that beast
being exchanged for his own easy going
horsel But just then the perverse brute
of a sorrel stood stock still and hid the
r