uth; but Matron interposed, with womanly
tact,--

"You can do jest as you like, you know, about lettin' him go; but Dave's
in the barn."

"Dave in my barn! Wat in thunder's he doin' there? Yes, go, boy,--go for
nothin', if they ask you to, sooner than let that"--

The rest of the sentence was lost in the distance. But Mysie, following
her guide to the house, felt quite sure of their conveyance; and, in
fact, barely sufficient time elapsed for the hostess to possess herself
of the leading facts in her guests' history, before the carriage was
announced, and our travellers hastened down the lane, and found there
awaiting them the evident model of the Autocrat's "One-Hoss Shay," in
its last five years of senility;--to this was attached a quadruped who
immediately reminded Mysie of a long-forgotten conundrum.

"What was the first created animal?"

_Ans._ "Shay-'oss."

Holding him ostentatiously by the head stood Youth, the "borried" whip
flourished in his right hand, as he invited his passengers to seat
themselves without reference to him.

This being done and the seat pretty thoroughly filled, Youth perched
himself upon a bag and valise, which filled the front of the vehicle,
and the journey commenced.

That ride! The first mile was not passed before the meaning of Dave's
malicious smile, at mention of a whip, became painfully apparent; for
never was weapon more perseveringly used, or with so little result, the
cunning old beast falling into a jog-trot at the commencement, from
which no amount of vociferation or whipping could move him.

"I wouldn't hurry him so much," interposed Mysie, her compassion
aroused both for beast and Youth. "I don't like to see a horse whipped
so much."

"Oh, you see, Ma'am, he's so used to it, he won't go noways without it;
feels kind o' lonesome, I 'xpect. It don't hurt him none, nuther; his
skin's got so thick an' tough, that he wouldn't know, if you was to put
bilin' tar on him."

"Do you feed your horse on oats, much?" inquired Caleb, gravely, after a
long and observant silence.

"No, Sir, we darsn't give him no oats, 'cause he'd be sure to run away;
doos sometimes, as it is."

"I don't think you need fear it to-day," replied Caleb, quietly, as he
settled himself into the corner, in the vain hope of a nap; but Youth
was now loquaciously inclined.

"Reck'n Dave was disappinted," said he, with a chuckle. "He meant to
kerry ye himself; but soon's I see him round, I says to my