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Read Ebook: Bonnie Prince Fetlar: The Story of a Pony and His Friends by Saunders Marshall
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Ebook has 1726 lines and 50271 words, and 35 pages
was the kind that makes one feel like joining in and soon young Dallas was giggling feebly. Then he too burst into a jolly peal. Tears ran down his cheeks. "Oh! Uncle," he said, getting out his handkerchief which was white and clean like a girl's, "I don't know what I'm laughing at."
"Neither do I," said his uncle, and then they both laughed harder than ever until at last I felt my own lips curling.
"You're such a funny lad," said the man after a time, wiping his eyes and then laying a hand kindly on the boy's head. "You take me back to the days of my youth when I used to play with your dear mother. There were just the two of us. Oh! you are like her, so much like her. Boy, she used to lie too in her young days, but never to me, only to persons she was afraid of."
"I don't lie to you," said Dallas seriously, "I don't want to."
"Are you afraid of my children that you tell stories to them?"
"N-no, not exactly. I want to please them."
"Oh!" said Mr. Devering, "that fatal wish to please. It has slain its millions."
"I love to see boys and girls comfortable in their minds," said Dallas wistfully.
"And if they expect you to know how to do a thing you lie to gratify them--but when they find you out--then they're not happy."
Dallas said nothing and his uncle went on, "When I was a boy there was a weak-minded lad living near us. The children all picked at him. The grown-ups were always after us for it. Do you catch my meaning?"
Dallas hung his head. "Yes, my Uncle. The weak go to the wall. I've read that in history."
"Now my children know you have weak points. They'll play on them. We must stop them. You want to be a decent man, don't you?"
"Oh! yes, I do indeed."
"Well! what are you going to do about it?"
"I can guess. You see, boy, the trouble is that the first five years of a child's life are the ones in which he gets his mould. You had seclusion and shyness stamped on you. We've got to get a new imprint--and don't be too humble. You're just as bright as my children. You're too meek when you think you must tell stories to over-awe them. Plain truth will save you, lad, and you can do some things that my children can't do. Just wait till they find out how well you can sing. Now let me hear you promise to stop this fairy story business."
Dallas put up a slight hand, and said solemnly, "I promise to speak the truth and the truth only from this on."
Mr. Devering clapped him on the shoulder. Then he slipped his hand under my blanket, felt me to see whether I was warm, and folding the blanket backward drew it off in the proper way so as to leave my hair smooth.
Then he said, "Bonnie Prince Fetlar, I didn't understand your manoeuvres the other morning. I ask your pardon."
Fancy a man asking a pony's pardon! I just loved him for it and tucked my muzzle in the pocket of his corduroy jacket as we went out of the stable.
"Stop your tickling, Prince," he said; "here's a bit of sugar for you. Now keep your soft old nose to yourself--let's go get the deer-hound. He'd enjoy an afternoon out."
We all went up to the kennel by the cow stable where Drunkard welcomed us frantically.
Mr. Devering unchained him and led him toward the house.
When we got near the veranda and I saw the joyful group on it my heart died within me. Preparations for a picnic were going on. Probably they would go by water and I should be left at home. However I could have a little fun before they went, in watching them.
They were well-drilled children. A list was hung on a veranda post, and each child kept consulting it while packing baskets. So many knives, forks, spoons, napkins, cups and saucers and plates must go in, also a huge frying-pan, a big pot for coffee which they were allowed on picnics. Bingi brought bacon, cold potatoes, an egg salad, jelly, chicken sandwiches, a chocolate cake, ginger snaps, two cream pies and lots of spread bread and butter. Oh! it was going to be a picnic that would warm a pony's heart--and I do so enjoy a picnic with nice boys and girls.
I stepped mournfully back under the lilacs and watched the closing of the baskets and the forming of the procession to the lake.
Everybody was smiling; even Big Chief who was a boy that was always cheered by the sight of food.
I paced slowly after the joyful children, my head drooping, my eyes on my young master who walked beside me, his gaze fixed apprehensively on the lake.
Suddenly that clever woman Mrs. Devering gave us an understanding glance over her shoulder.
"Daddy," she called in her clear voice to Mr. Devering, who was leading with the biggest baskets, "is this little pony broken to harness?"
"Oh! yes, he was for some years in Ohio, where one sees ponies hauling two or four persons in carts and small surreys."
"Good!" she exclaimed. "I'd like to drive to the warden's. It will be all right for me to put Pony in the small cart?"
"Certainly," he said. "Who will go with you?"
Childlike every boy and girl but Dallas cried out.
"Dallas goes," she said. "He is the only one who was politely silent. My darlings--you must not run after invitations. Let them run after you." And so speaking she was just about to drop out of the procession when Cassowary said pleadingly, "Mother, let me drive Dallas. You'd have to handle the harness and you know you cut your hand this morning."
"Thank you, girlie," said her mother, "I believe I will resign in your favor. Show your cousin how to help you."
Cassowary, who was ahead with Drunkard, passed his lead to Champ and my young master and I joyfully followed her to the carriage-house, where she wheeled out a two-seated cart.
"I suppose you know nothing about harnessing," she said to Dallas.
"Oh! yes," he began, then he checked himself and said over again, "Oh! yes, you are right. I know nothing about attaching an animal to a carriage."
"Come to the harness room," she said, and there she gave young Dallas quite a nice talk about four and two-wheelers for passengers and also about the even more important waggons for carrying loads. Then she explained the difference between work harness and light harness.
Dallas had a good memory and when she gave him a brief examination she found he had forgotten nothing, but he stood staring at me.
"All very fine," he remarked. "I understand about the bridle, collar, traces, breeching, hip-strap and so on, but how do you get harness and cart together?"
Cassowary did not smile. She was as sober as a judge.
"Back up, Pony," she said, and she showed Dallas how to lift the shafts and buckle straps until I and my smart tan harness were firmly attached to the cart.
"Now, jump in," she said, "box seat. Take the reins or as you, I suppose, would call them, the lines. Not that way. Here change your fingers--reins held in left hand, right free for take-back or whip."
"And would you whip this beautiful little creature?" asked Dallas in a shocked voice.
"Not I--I'm merely teaching you form--near rein over your forefinger, off rein between middle and ring fingers. Grip reins by edges, not by flat sides."
"Am I really driving?" asked Dallas in an astonished voice as I turned them smoothly out to the road.
"Looks like it," she said.
Happy in having no blinds I could cast a glance back toward the proud and delighted boy.
"Don't look so nervous," said Cassowary. "That pony could go it alone. Tighten your reins though. If he were a stumbler down he would go. It's hard lines you couldn't have had this fun sooner. If I were Queen I'd give every boy and girl a pony and a dog."
"I feel as if I were in heaven," said Dallas in an awed voice.
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