Margaret Maliphant

								

set of teeth for an old man. "Ah, it takes a man to hold a mare,
leastways if she's got any spirit in her."
"She didn't pull any too much for me," answered I, half vexed. "What
makes you fancy so?"
"I seed the young dandy a-driving ye along the road," said he. "I can
see a long way. She pulled at first, but he took it out of her."
If there was any secret in our having driven out of town with Captain
Forrester, Reuben had it.
"Joyce was frightened, and he had driven the mare at the squire's,"
said I. "She reared a bit in town, but I don't think he drove any
better than I could have done."
Reuben took no notice of this remark. "She's a handsome mare," said
he. "The handsomer they be, the worse they be to drive. Women are the
same--so I've heard tell; though, to be sure, the ugly ones are bad
enough."
Deborah was not handsome; but then, had Reuben ever tried to drive her?
Oh, if she could have heard that speech! She came up the garden cliff
in front of us as I spoke, with some herbs in her arms--a tall, strong
woman, with a wide waist and shoulders, planting her foot firmly on the
ground at every step, and swaying slightly on her hips with the bulk of
her person. When she was young she must have had a fine figure, but now
she was not graceful.
"Yes, she's a beauty," said I, stroking the mare's sleek sides, and
alluding to her and not to Deborah. "When we are alone together we'll
have fine fun." The mare stretched out her pretty neck to take the
sugar that I held in my hand. She was beginning to know me already.
"Yes, Miss Joyce is nervous," said Reuben, meditatively. "Most like she
would have more confidence in a beau. Them pretty maids are that way,
and the beaux buzz about them like flies to the honey. But the beasts
be fond of you, miss," he added, admiringly, watching me fondling the
horse.
It was the higher compliment from Reuben, and it was true that every
animal liked me. I could catch the pony in the field when it would let
no one else get near it. I could milk the cow who kicked over the pail
for any one but Deborah. I could coax the rabbits to me, and almost
make friends with the hares in the woods. The cat slept upon my bed,
and Taff watched outside my door.
I laughed at Reuben's compliment; but Deborah strode out of the back
door just then, to hang linen out to dry, and Reuben never laughed when
she was by. She gave me a sharp glance.
"You've got your frock out at the gathers again," said she. She did not
often trouble to give us our titles of "miss."
"Have I?" replied I, carelessly.
"Yes, you have; and how you manage it is more than I can tell,"
continued she, tartly. "Now you're grown up, I should think you might
have done with jumping dikes, and riding horses without saddles, and
such-like."
"Why, Deb," cried I, laughing, "I haven't jumped a dike since I was
fourteen. At least, not when any one was by," added I, remembering a