When Fred set out for Rexow he remembered this piece of advice, and determined to try whether it would really succeed. So off he set, the reins in his left hand, the whip under his left arm, and a large jug quite full of water in his right hand. Of course his progress was only at a foot's pace, for if he had gone fast he would have spilt the water, and as the sorrel was too old to care about going quickly everything went well till they reached the farm-yard at Rexow. Fred then wished to turn his gallant steed down the drive leading to the front-door, so he gave the sorrel a touch of the spurs in his ribs, and immediately the horse stopt as though rooted to the spot; whether it was only his way, or whether he was a sly dog and remembered what had happened at the parsonage-pond is more than I can tell. Now was the time for Fred to try his stratagem. He jerked the bit, used his spurs energetically, and dashed the jug of cold water between the horse's ears. "Ugh!" grunted the sorrel with a shake of the head, to show that he had no intention of moving on, but was quite contented to remain where he was, and then he sank down gently and quietly to the ground where he stretched himself out at full length. Fred was obliged to follow his example, for though he had sufficient presence of mind to free himself from the stirrups, still he could not help falling beside his horse. The company assembled in Mrs. Nüssler's parlour had seen the whole dispute between Fred and the sorrel, and little Mrs. Behrens trembled for her sister's darling when she saw Fred raise himself in his stirrups, and fling the great kitchen-jug at his opponent, but when she saw the sorrel's gentle reproof, and her nephew lying on the soft but slightly cool "bed of honour" which Heaven had covered with a coating of mud, made by the rain and thaw, and which Joseph Nüssler had also aided to soften with his farm-carts, she could not help joining in the hearty fit of laughter with which the rest of the party had greeted Fred's down-fall. She then said to her husband: "It will do him a great deal of good!"--"Yes," said Bräsig, "and a cold in the head will do him no harm either. What business had he to treat the poor old beast so shockingly." Fred approached like the half-moon, one side shining and brilliant, the other dark, and gloomy. "What a mess you've made of your clothes, my dear boy," cried his Aunt from the open window. "Don't come into the parlour in that state. Fortunately your box has arrived, so you can easily change your things."