he had
spent such a happy summer.

The homeward journey was a very pleasant one, and marked by no exciting
incidents. Jack Davis was in his place on the box, and, recognising Bert
when the passengers got out at the first change of horses, hailed him
with a hearty: "Holloa, youngster! Are you on board? Would you like to
come up on top with me again?"

It need hardly be said that Bert jumped at the invitation, and, his
mother giving her consent, he rode on the box seat beside Davis the
greater part of the day as happy as a bird. The weather was perfect, it
being a cool, bright day in early September, and Bert enjoyed very much
recognising and recalling the different things that had particularly
interested him on the way down. "Black Rory" was as lively as ever, and
seemed determined to run away and dash everything to pieces as they
started out from his stable, but calmed down again after a mile or two,
as usual, and trotted along amiably enough the rest of his distance.

It happened that Davis had no one on the outside with whom he cared to
talk, so he gave a good deal of attention to Bert, telling him about the
horses and their peculiarities, and how they were in so many ways just
like people, and had to be humoured sometimes, and sometimes punished,
and how it was, upon the whole, so much better to be kind than cruel to
them.

"If your father ever lets you have a pony, Bert," said Davis, "take my
word for it it'll pay you to treat that ere pony like a brother. Just
let him know you're fond of him from the start; give him a lump of sugar
or a crust of bread now and then--it's wonderful how fond horses are of
such things--and he'll follow you about just like a dog. Horses have got
a good deal more human nature in 'em than folks generally give 'em
credit for, I can tell you, and I think I know what I am talking about,
for I've had to do with them ever since I've been as big as you."

Bert listened to this lecture with very lively interest, for his father
had more than once hinted at getting him a pony some day if he were a
good boy, and showed he could be trusted with one. He confided his hopes
to his friend, and received in return for the confidence a lot more of
good advice, which need not be repeated here.

The sun was setting as the coach drove up to the hotel at Thurso, where
Mrs. Lloyd and Bert were to remain for the night, taking the train for
Halifax the next morning. Bert felt quite sorry at parting with hi