“You brought no sugar? Of course not, not knowin’ what you was comin’ to see! Here’s some then. I keep it handy in my coat-tail pockets, not knowin’ whin I’ll be wantin’ it to reward one or another of the horses. They’ll do much more for you, miss, if they know you’re like to be givin’ them a bit of a treat now an’ thin.” “Everybody will,” returned Beth gravely, to the man’s manifest delight. She offered the pony a lump of sugar, at first with a hand somewhat shaky and too ready to withdraw, but quite steady at the second lump. “Oh, how beau-tifully mousy-velvet his nose feels!” cried Beth. “How shall I ever go to sleep to-night? And how shall I ever, ever tell Janie and Aunt Rebecca about him?” “We must start now, Bethie,” said Mr. Cortlandt. “Tim will saddle the pony; we must get off.” “Get off? That’s exactly what I should do, Uncle Jim!” cried Beth. “You don’t mean I am to ride right straight off, to-day? I don’t know how to ride.” “But the rest of us do! I shall keep you beside me, between Dirk and me. The pony has been trained for a little girl’s use; he knows how to be ridden, if you don’t know how to ride him. Saddle him, please, Tim,” said Mr. Cortlandt. “Yes, sir. Sure, all you have to do is to sit like he was a rockin’-chair, keepin’ your lines so you do be feelin’ his mouth easy, an’ your backbone straight, miss,” said Tim. “Come now, shake hands wid your new mistress, Trump, an’ it’ll be out you go! Put your hand down, miss, an’ bid him shake hands good-bye an’ he’ll do it.” “Is his name Trump? I shall never call him anything but my dearie, my darling! Shake hands, Trump, you blessedest thing, you!” Saying which Beth held out her hand, palm uppermost, as Tim had bidden her, and Trump obligingly raised his right forefoot and offered his clean little hoof to be shaken, to the unspeakable rapture of his new owner. Tim brought forth the most knowing looking, perfect miniature saddle and bridle and put them on Trump, first brushing his already speckless coat lest a bit of dust should escape his vigilance. His assistants were saddling and bridling the other horses. If Beth had been wise enough in horse lore she would have known that there were few such beautiful creatures anywhere as the five horses making ready for her relatives’ ride. But, small as he was, Trump filled her eye to the exclusion of all else. The horses were led down the incline which was their stairway while the riders descended the steps. Mrs. Cortlandt discovered that Beth was trembling and rightly construed it as not entirely caused by her joy.