The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1891-01-15


denly mad, beyond a doubt; but I was /.
in for it, and what man dared 7 mist
TOOK a long breath, let the whip fall
well back out of the gray's sight, and,
braclng my every muscle firmly, uttered
the mystic monosyllable, "G1angr'
1t cut like knife through the clear
atmosphere, and the keen echo almost r
divided my tympana. The sorrel heard. g
He stretched himself, gathered and made !,
merry plunge forward: but that per-
verse brute of a gray only stuck his c
forelegs IN the snow and sat down like !.
dog. Luckily, Miss Bette managed to !,
hold her father by such string of pratt Ii
tie he noticed none Of these circus like !.
proceedings
"Mind, papa! don't forget the flannel
for old Nanny Watts; and be sure to i
send the pickles to Bowser; and have !
the presents on the Christmas tree, lust :
as II was at home-thats a dear papa. &
And, Oh, be sure that Liza does the tur- l
key to turn for dinner tomorrow ,
'"Ihat was to have been your dinner" :,
the old gentleman said, turning to me.
'"Ihat pleasure [ must defer to please
this small puss with her whims''
The mayor seemed to me great dis
lance off. His words came to me through
sound in my ears like the boom Of the I
sea, for that cursed gray still sat like
circus horse. and the sorrel pulled till his
nose almost touched the snow
"And, oh, papa!" cried Miss Bette with /
timely little scream Of recollection.
now don't forget the red wrapper for old
Patience-thatsa dear!"
"Give that gray devil the whip."
Jones groWled to me in savage whis-
per, rounded off with something very
like an oath. you'll have all the fat in
the fire with such - driving"
Give him the whip!
! | thought before Tom Jones of the
Boomerangs had gone crazy. Nov |
knew, like all maniacs, he believed me
as stark, staring mad as he was.
! "And, papa, dear, don't forget the
brandy peaches for DR.. Lindsey-your
present, remember" ran on that dear
voice. Then it punctured through all
my fear with the words, "Now do go on,
please"
Whether the electric spark that
thrilled through me at that whisper
ran down the reins and magnetized the
gray, [ never knew. Somehow we were
IN the road, the dasher full of snow, and
that devils team going at wild strike
that sent acute agony to the marrow of
my every bone.
"Splendid! Perfect! Bravot' shout
ed Tom from the back seat. Your
start was picture; and that run into
the drift and barking the pear tree don't
count, as the bend hid them from Uncle
Bob
thought madly 1 heard gurglins
sound of female laughter. l was wrong,
though, for that second she said to me:
"4ou do drive splendidly, indeed.
And how good of you to rest Toms
arms! Poor Tom! why, how the reins
have cut your hands!''
MY arm is stiff as a poker, Bet.
All, baby, that's delicious!'
! Had been driving the horses Of the
Sun, with the pit of Acheron gaping be-
fore me, | must have turned at that
exclamation. There was misery in nv
spine and torture in my legs, but | did
turn a little. Tom had pulled off his
gauntlet. and she-yes. she was chafing
his purple. ugly hand between two be-
witching fur gloves!
''See what a good cousin I ami" The
black eyes danced before me, and once
more the musical laugh trilled out bead
tiful and birdlilSe. With agony in my
back and bitterness in my soul | tried
| to echo it, but the hollow mockery
ended in a CHASTITY groan as the brutes
gave an extra plunge that nearly carried
me over the dasher.
The next twenty minutes We're a
nightmare. hold in memory vague
tumble of binding sunlight on the snow;
a whirling rush of trees and houses on
the hill sides: a racking and torment in
back, knees and arms; whizzing whoo
of wind in my half frozen ears. Twice
| essayed to look around at the couple
behind me, but the commandante in
"Don Juan" was not more rigid than
those strained feathers held me, while the
molten fire rushing down my spine re-
fused to let me bend my neck. felt
/
bows and shoulder blades pull clear
from their sockets; but still I held on,
madly, wildly, in a sort of dread
full trance, for those twenty minutes
Then remembrance vaguely paints a
roadside inn: collection of sleighs and
men running into the road and waving
their hands then crash, cutter flying
wildly aside and a man in a somersault.
Last came grinding jar, and l awoke
from my nightmare, half lying between
! Tom and his cousin on the back seat,
the horses neck deep in snow drift and
rough coated men running for their
heads.
''Splendid, by jingo!" yelled Tom to
me as, hastily extricating himself from
the buffalo, he ran to man foundering
in the road. you're not hurt, hope?
I'm deuced sorry for the foul, but young
horses-hard mouths-couldn't help it.
Beasts all right, see. Come in and
have something to drink"
drew long, deep, gasping breath. 1
tried to spring, but could only crawl,
over the scraper, and helped Miss Bette
into the road. We were at the Bulls
Eye" tavern, five good miles from Pike