ts.
"Bless his heart!" cried Mrs. Somerby, as Jack whinnied at her
approach, and thrust his ugly nose into her hand.
Mr. Somerby felt of Jack's ribs with a professional air, and said:
"I'm trying a new system with this 'ere beast; I think he's picking up
a grain."
"He'll pick up the grain, no doubt," playfully retorted his wife. "Now
then, I'll help you off. Those paper men'll have all they want if
you're not on hand. I'm glad I put you up to sorting the stuff last
week."
"You'll 'put me up' till I'm clean gone," said Joe, winking to himself,
as he followed his lively wife. "Let them bags alone, marm. You can be
putting me up a big lunch."
"It's all ready, under the wagon-seat. By good rights, Joe, you'd ought
to have a boy to help you."
"It isn't a woman's work, I know," said he, kindly. "You just sit here
and look on."
Joe swung her up on a bale as if she had been a child. Inspired by her
bright eyes he worked with a will. The wagon was soon loaded. Mrs. Joe
ran for his overcoat and best hat, gave him a wifely kiss, and watched
him depart from the low brown door-way.
"She's the best bargain I ever made," thought Joe, as he jogged toward
the city. "I'm not quite up to her time, I know," continued he, and
there was a tender look in his sleepy eyes. "Howsomedever, I'll make a
lucky hit yet!"
The prospect was so cheering that Joe actually snapped the whip at the
"trotter" who was meditating with his head between his knees. Jack,
however, did not increase his gait, but plodded on. It was bitter cold,
and Joe had to exercise himself to keep warm. It was afternoon when the
laden cart entered the city. Hungry Jack had stopped twice, and gazed
around at his master in dumb reproach. Joe was hungry, too; so he
hurried into a square, in the business part of the city, covered his
pet with an old quilt, and giving him his food, went to dispose of his
cargo. But Joe's purchasers had gone to dinner, so he returned, mounted
the cart, and began upon his own lunch.
"Now, if they don't want my stuff, my wife's 'presentiment' 's gone
up," said the elegant Joe, "and I've had this cold trip for nothing."
Just here a remarkable event occurred. Jack suddenly threw up his
meditative head, shied, and stood upon his hind-legs.
[Illustration: "THE BOY WAS ON HIS KNEES."]
"Hey there!" cried his master, delighted at this token of life. "Yer a
trotter, after all?"
"Yer old nag scart, mister?" asked several small bo
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