t cost him over three hundred dollars. The
team ran away, the buggy was wrecked, one horse was killed, the girl had
her hind leg broken, and the girl's father kicked the young man all over
the orchard, and broke the mainspring of his watch.

It got so that the livery rig a young man drove was an index to his
thoughts. If he had a stylish team that was right up on the bit, and
full of vinegar, and he braced himself and pulled for all that was out,
and the girl sat back in the corner of the buggy, looking as though she
should faint away if a horse got his tail over a line, then people said
that couple was all right, and there was no danger that they would be on
familiar terms.

But if they started out with a slow old horse that looked as though all
he wanted was to be left alone, however innocent the party might look,
people knew just as well as though they had seen it, that when they got
out on the road, or when night came on, that fellow's arm would steal
around her waist, and she would snug up to him, and--Oh, pshaw, you have
heard it before.

Well, late years the livery men have "got onto the racket," as they say
at the church sociables. They have found that horses that know their
business are in demand, and so horses are trained for this purpose They
are trained on purpose for out door sparking. It is not an uncommon
thing to see a young fellow drive up to the house where his girl lives
with a team that is just tearing things. They prance, and champ the bit,
and the young man seems to pull on them as though his liver was coming
out. The horses will hardly stand still long enough for the girl to get
in, and then they start off and seem to split the air wide open, and
the neighbors say, "Them children will get all smashed up one of these
days."

The girl's mother and father see the team start, and their minds
experience a relief as they reflect that "as long as John drives that
frisky team there can't be no hugging a going on." The girl's older
sister sighs and says, "That's so," and goes to her room and laughs
right out loud.

It would be instructive to the scientists to watch that team for a few
miles. The horses fairly foam, before they get out of town, but striking
the country road, the fiery steeds come down to a walk, and they mope
along as though they had always worked on a hearse. The shady woods
are reached, and the carriage scarcely moves, and the horses seem to be
walking in their sleep. The lines are