Willie did not finish that line, however. He was interrupted in the midst of it by a long blast on a horn. It was a loud, thundering blast and it startled him. He looked into the direction from which it came and there, charging down the road, he saw four prancing horses drawing a snow-white chariot. It was a beautiful sight. He had seen some such rig the time when he went to the circus at Baton Rouge. But this rig was even prettier than the circus carriages. Big white plumes bobbed from the crown-pieces of the bridles, and the horses pranced and danced along, raising a terrible dust. “Great day!” he exclaimed. “Class sho’ is comin’ down de road to-day.” In a minute the carriage was in front of him, and with much suddenness it came to a halt, the horses falling back on their haunches to check the momentum. “Git up hyar, boy, an’ le’s git goin’,” the driver called down. “Us is late, as it is or--else you is early.” Willie scrambled to the seat beside the driver. As the horses raced onward he enjoyed the thrill of the speedy ride, the wind rushing by his ears, the sparkle of the gold and silver harness, the dexterity with which the driver held the horses in the road with one hand and cracked the whip over their heads with the other. “You drives right well, boy,” he observed. “What’s yo’ name?” “Jehu,” replied the driver. “Jehu-which?” “Jest Jehu,” replied the driver. “Who dat boy wid de hawn in his han’?” “Gab’l.” The monosyllabic replies of his companion irritated Willie. He wanted conversation and he intended to have it. “How long you been----” he began, but suddenly Gabriel raised his trumpet to his lips and blew a deafening blast which almost lifted Willie from his seat. “Hol’ tight,” cautioned Jehu, and the chariot stopped suddenly. Willie saw an old man in a black slouch hat and cutaway coat, walking very alertly toward the carriage. His face was cleanly shaven except for a moustache and goatee which gave him a distinguished appearance. Willie instinctively knew that this quality-gentleman was going to ride on the plush seats inside, so he leaped down and opened the door of the carriage. The old man halted a few paces from him and cast a surveying glance at the horses. “That checkrein is too tight on that off-lead horse,” he said. “It is a pity that I have to ’tend to these trifles, but damn it all, I can’t stand to see fine horseflesh suffer on account of triflin’ niggers.” Willie quickly ran and lowered the checkrein and climbed back to his seat. “You oughter know better’n to check up dat hoss so high,” he admonished Jehu with a proprietary air. “Us likes our hosses to have a heap er room.”