“At noon you have to feed him the first time,” Gustav informed me. “Feed whom?” I asked involuntarily; my thoughts were occupied with the hat, and I thought that was what he was referring to. Gustav seemed to consider it beneath him to answer my insipid question. “Between four and five,” he continued, “he gets his fodder again; do you know how to go to work to feed a horse?” He held the nose-bag in his hands and looked at me as if he had strong doubts as to my efficiency. “I have sometimes seen it done at the stopping-places,” I replied dejectedly, “but we might as well make a trial.” “Well, then, go ahead,” he said, handing the receptacle to me. It was with some difficulty that I got the strap which held the bag adjusted around the horse’s neck; Gustav stood behind me with a critical air. “That ain’t right,” he said; “take the bit out first.” He now showed me how to take the bit out of the horse’s mouth, and then made me do it. The horse put his nose in the bag, and when he observed that there was nothing in it, he shook his ears, as much as to say, “I don’t think much of such practical jokes!” The horse seemed to share his master’s opinion of me, for Gustav was anything but satisfied, as his grunting tones proved. “Well now, go ahead!” he said at last, scanning me once more from head to foot. From under the seat he produced a dark bundle, which upon being unfolded proved to be his mantle; he thereupon proceeded to put it around my shoulders. “Bless us! This is heavy,” I said, groaning under the burden. As I seized the lines Gustav imparted his final instructions. “Here is the check,” he said, putting a piece of metal with the number of my cab into my hand; “now drive to the Schlesische Bahnhof and wait there; maybe you’ll get a job when the early train comes in. Give the check to the policeman; do you understand?” “Yes, yes,” I said; “I have often arrived by that station myself.” “And then when you’re ready to start give him a good whack with your whip,” he continued. “Whom?” I was about to ask once more, for I thought he was still talking of the policeman, but fortunately I suppressed my dulness. “For when he has been standing awhile,” explained Gustav, “the nag gets awfully lazy and his bones get stiff; but when he’s going he does very well, and then all you have to do is to let him jog along.” “Very well,” I said, seizing the whip, which he handed to me; “I’ll do precisely as you say.” Gustav opened the gateway preparatory to setting out. I jerked the reins and called out--“Go along!” The steed in my cab, however, did not pay the least attention to my manipulations; so far as I could see, he had fallen asleep again. I now began to belabour his back with the whip; even that was but half successful; he gave a little shrug of disdain, and stood still as if fastened to the ground. “You must hit around further to the front!” cried Gustav from the gate; “he don’t feel anything on his back any more!”