Very impatiently Mr. Delafield waited for the disappearance of the requisite amount of water, consulting his watch, counting the minutes, and at last remarking that it took Ferd a wonderful while to drink. “That’s ’case he’s sich a ’strordinary beast every way,” answered Bill, who for some little time had been holding an _empty_ bucket to the horse’s mouth. He was going to replenish a third time when his master ordered him back, telling him he could wait no longer; with another glance at his watch, he entered the carriage, while Bill, loudly lamenting the half bucket, without which Ferd would surely die, mounted the box, where he spent quite a while in comfortably disposing of his long, lank limbs and in adjusting his palmleaf hat. “Go on, you rascal,” shouted Mr. Delafield, beginning to lose his temper; and gathering up the reins, Bill whistled to the spirited animals, who dashed off at a far greater speed than their driver thought was at all conducive to their well being. “Hold on dar, Ferd! Stop dat foolin’, will you, Fred! Easy dar, both on you, for you come mighty nigh histin’ me off de box!” This last was said quite loud for the benefit of Mr. Delafield, who, perceiving that their speed had slackened, for they were well trained and readily obeyed Bill’s voice, called out, “Drive faster, I tell you. Give them the ribbons, and let them run.” “Lor’ a’mighty,” answered Bill, now coming to a dead halt in order that his master might be better impressed with what he said. “You don’t understand hoss flesh. At this rate you kills ’em in less than no time. Ferd never ‘ill stan’ it with them two buckets of water, ’case you see how shakin’ him up dis way dey’ll get bilin’ hot and nobody can live with bilin’ water in ’em.” Provoked as he was, Mr. Delafield could not repress a smile at the subterfuges of Bill to spare his horses, but he bade him drive on, saying, however, that he need not drive them at the top of their speed immediately, as they would be more likely to give out, “but after a mile or two,” he continued, “put them through with the _whip_ if necessary.” “Lor’ mars’r,” answered Bill from the box, without moving an inch, “I never tache them with a whip in de world. Fred would jump clar out of his skin. All dey want to make ’em kill deyselves is a loose rein and a whistle—so.” Suiting the action to the word, he whistled long and loud, whereupon the horses started forward as if a volley of artillery had been fired at their heels, while mingled with the roll of the wheels, Mr. Delafield heard the distressed Bill, saying. “Whoa, dar, Ferdinand, can’t you whoa when I tell you. Think of the bilin’ water, and keep easy. Come Frederic, you set him a ’xample. That’s a good boy, no ’casion for all dis hurry, if we misses one train we catches another. All de same thing. We ain’t chasin’ a runaway gal’ as I knows of.”