ad known that
it was safer to alight from the hind seat of a village cart than from
the front seat.

"Don't pull at him that way," she cried from the opposite side of the
road, "he will go over backwards on top of you. Let him alone and
perhaps he will stop rearing."

Hammerstein now stood on all his feet again, and Miss Calthea earnestly
advised Mr. Tippengray to turn him around and drive back.

"I am not far from home now," she said, "and can easily walk there. I
really think I do not care to get in again. But I am sure he will go
home to his stable without giving you any trouble."

But Mr. Tippengray's spirit was up, and he would not be conquered by a
horse, especially in the presence of a lady.

"I shall make him pass it," he cried, and he brought down his whip on
Hammerstein's back with such force that the startled animal gave a great
bound forward, and then, finding himself so near the dreaded wreck, he
gave a wilder bound, and passed it. Then, being equipped with blinders,
which did not allow him to see behind him, he did not know but the
frightful wagon, its wheels uppermost, was wildly pursuing him, and,
fearing that this might be so, he galloped onward with all his speed.

The Greek scholar pulled at the reins and shouted in such a way that
Hammerstein was convinced that he was being urged to use all efforts to
get away from the oncoming monster. He did not turn into the Lethbury
road when he came to it, but kept straight on. At such a moment the
straighter the road the better. Going down a long hill, Mr. Tippengray,
still pulling and shouting, and now hatless, perceived, some distance
ahead of him, a boy standing by the roadside. It was easy enough for the
practised eye of a country boy to take in the state of affairs, and his
instincts prompted him to skip across the road and open a gate which led
into a field recently plowed.

Mr. Tippengray caught at the boy's idea and, exercising all his
strength, he turned Hammerstein into the open gateway. When he had made
a dozen plunges into the deep furrows and through the soft yielding
loam, the horse concluded that he had had enough of that sort of
exercise, and stopped. Mr. Tippengray, whose senses had been nearly
bounced out of him, sprang from the cart, and, slipping on the uneven
surface of the ground, tumbled into a deep furrow, from which, however,
he instantly arose without injury, except to his clothes. Hurrying to
the head of the horse he found the