Brownsmiths Boy - A Romance in a Garden - Page 193/241

"But where's Shock?" I said all at once.

Ike gave his head a jerk towards the cart, and I ran and looked over the

tailboard, to see a heap of sacks and some straw, but no Shock. In one

corner, though, there was a strongly made boot, and I took hold of that,

to find it belonged to something alive, for its owner began to kick

fiercely.

"Better jump in, my lad," said Ike, and we did so, when, the seat having

been set right so as to balance the weight, Ike gave a chirrup, and we

went off at a good round trot.

"Let him be," said Ike as I drew his attention to the heap of straw and

sacks. "He goes best when you let him have his own way. He'll go to

sleep for a bit, and I dessay we can manage to get on without him. His

conversation isn't so very entertaining."

I laughed, and for about an hour we trotted on, the whole affair being

so novel and strange that I felt quite excited, and wondered that Ike

neither looked to right nor left, but seemed to be studying the horse's

ears.

The fact was his thoughts were running in one particular direction, and

I soon found which, for he began in his morose way: "Just as if I should overload or ill-use a hoss! Look at old

Bonyparty."

"What do you mean?" I said.

"Why, him talking like that afore we started. I know what I'm about.

You'd better lie down and cover yourself over with some sacks. Get a

good sleep; I'll call you when we get there."

"What, and miss seeing the country?" I cried.

"Seeing the country! Lor', what a baby you are, Mars Grant! What is

there to see in that?"

I thought a great deal; and a glorious ride it seemed through the

moonlight and under the dark shadows of the trees in the country lanes.

Then there was the dawn, and the sun rising, and the bright morning once

more, with the dew glittering on the grassy strands and hedgerows; and I

was so happy and excited that Ike said, with one of his grim smiles: "Why, anybody'd think you was going out for a holiday 'stead of helping

to load a sand cart."

"It's such a change, Ike," I said.

"Change! What sort o' change? Going to use a shovel 'stead of a spade;

and sand's easy to dig but awful heavy. Here, get up; are you going to

lie snoring there all day?"

He leaned over me and poked with the butt of the whip handle at Shock,

but that gentleman only kicked and growled, and so he was left in peace.

Just before eight o'clock, after a glorious morning ride through a hilly

country, we came to a pretty-looking village with the houses covered in

with slabs of stone instead of slates or tiles or thatch, and the soft

grey, and the yellow and green lichen and moss seemed to make the place

quaint and wonderfully attractive to me; but I was not allowed to sit

thinking about the beauty of the place, for Ike began to tell me of the

plan of our campaign.