ous eyes.

Both the ladies looked up inquiringly as Dr. Bell and I stopped.

I lifted my hat. It was the only thing I could think of to do at the
moment. At this they both nodded gravely. Then we sat and stared at one
another.

"Well?" said the old lady, when the silence had become embarrassing.

I felt that I must say something, so I remarked: "This is a very pretty
place you have here."

At this, though the statement was quite true, they looked perplexed.

"Is there any message?" asked the young woman, after another pause.

"Oh, no," I answered lightly. "I was riding by and thought I'd take the
liberty of coming up and telling you--telling you that although I am a
Northerner and a stranger here, I love the South, the quaint old
Southern customs, the lovely old houses, the delicious waffles, the--"

"That is very gratifying," said she "I am sorry to say we are all out of
waffles at present."

"Oh, I don't want any now," I replied politely.

"Well, if you don't mind my asking, what _do_ you want?"

"I want," I said, desperately, "to see your groom for a moment, if
possible."

"He's gone to town," she replied. "Is there anything I can do? I see
that your stirrup leather is twisted." With that she arose, came down,
removed my foot from the stirrup, in a businesslike manner, reversed the
iron, and put my foot back for me.

I thanked her.

"Anything else?" she asked, her wicked eye twinkling.

"Perhaps," I ventured, "perhaps you know how to make a horse
single-foot?"

"There are different ways," she said. "With Dr. Bell you might try using
the curb gently, working it from side to side."

"I will," I said. "Thank you very much."

"And," said the girl, "if he ever takes a notion to bolt with you, or to
go up to some house where you don't want him to go, just touch him with
the curb. That will fix him. He's very soft-bitted."

"But I tried that," I protested.

She looked at my reins, then shook her head.

"No," she said, "you've got your curb rein and your snaffle rein mixed."

"I am very much indebted to you," I said, as I changed the position of
the reins between my fingers.

"Not at all," said she. "I hope you'll get safely back to the Claymont.
If you want to jump him, give him his head. He'll take off all right."

"Thanks," I returned. "I don't want to jump him."

Then lifting my hat and thanking her again, I wiggled the curb gently
from side to side, as directed, and departed, singlefooting