“About two years,” said Mr. Podington; “before I got him, I used to
drive a pair.”
“Heavens!” thought Buller, “how lucky I was not to come two years
ago!” And his regrets for not sooner visiting his friend greatly
decreased.
Now they came to a place where the stream, by which the road ran,
had been dammed for a mill and had widened into a beautiful pond.
“There now!” cried Mr. Buller. “That’s what I like. William, you
seem to have everything! This is really a very pretty sheet of
water, and the reflections of the trees over there make a charming
picture; you can’t get that at the seaside, you know.”
Mr. Podington was delighted; his face glowed; he was rejoiced at
the pleasure of his friend. “I tell you, Thomas,” said he, “that——”
“William!” exclaimed Buller, with a sudden squirm in his seat,
“what is that I hear? Is that a train?”
“Yes,” said Mr. Podington, “that is the ten-forty, up.”
“Does it come near here?” asked Mr. Buller, nervously. “Does it go
over that bridge?”
“Yes,” said Podington, “but it can’t hurt us, for our road goes
under the bridge; we are perfectly safe; there is no risk of
accident.”
“But your horse! Your horse!” exclaimed Buller, as the train came
nearer and nearer. “What will he do?”
“Do?” said Podington; “he’ll do what he is doing now; he doesn’t
mind trains.”
“But look here, William,” exclaimed Buller, “it will get there just
as we do; no horse could stand a roaring up in the air like that!”
Podington laughed. “He would not mind it in the least,” said he.
“Come, come now,” cried Buller. “Really, I can’t stand this! Just
stop a minute, William, and let me get out. It sets all my nerves
quivering.”
Mr. Podington smiled with a superior smile. “Oh, you needn’t get
out,” said he; “there’s not the least danger in the world. But I
don’t want to make you nervous, and I will turn around and drive
the other way.”
“But you can’t!” screamed Buller. “This road is not wide enough,
and that train is nearly here. Please stop!”
The imputation that the road was not wide enough for him to turn
was too much for Mr. Podington to bear. He was very proud of his
ability to turn a vehicle in a narrow place.
“Turn!” said he; “that’s the easiest thing in the world. See; a
little to the right, then a back, then a sweep to the left and we
will be going the other way.” And instantly he began the maneuver
in which he was such an adept.
“Oh, Thomas!” cried Buller, half rising in his seat, “that train is
almost here!”
“And we are almost——” Mr. Podington was about to say “turned
around,” but he stopped. Mr. Buller’s exclamations had made him a
little nervous, and, in his anxiety to turn quickly, he had pulled
upon his horse’s bit with more energy than was actually necessary,
and his nervousness being communicated to the horse, that animal
backed with such extraordinary vigor that the hind wheels of the
wagon went over a bit of grass by the road and into the water. The
sudden jolt gave a new impetus to Mr. Buller’s fears.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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