vegetable porcupine as possible. This unexpected bit of satire in his
rear changed his retrograde movement to a sidelong bound, by which he
flirted off half the pots on the balusters, upsetting my gladioluses and
tuberoses in the pod, and leaving great splashes of mould, geraniums,
and red pottery in the gravel walk. By this time his owner had managed
to give him two pretty severe cuts with the whip, which made him
unmanageable, so I let him go. We had a pleasant time catching him
again, when he got among the Lima-bean poles; but his owner led him back
with a very self-satisfied expression. "Playful, ain't he, 'squire?" I
replied that I thought he was, and asked him if it was usual for his
horse to play such pranks. He said it was not "You see, 'squire, he
feels his oats, and hain't been out of the stable for a month. Use him,
and he's as kind as a kitten." With that he put his foot in the stirrup,
and mounted. The animal really looked very well as he moved around the
grass-plot, and, as Mrs. Sparrowgrass seemed to fancy him, I took a
written guarantee that he was sound, and bought him. What I gave for him
is a secret; I have not even told Mrs. Sparrowgrass....

We had passed Chicken Island, and the famous house with the stone gable
and the one stone chimney, in which General Washington slept, as he made
it a point to sleep in every old stone house in Westchester County, and
had gone pretty far on the road, past the cemetery, when Mrs.
Sparrowgrass said suddenly, "Dear, what is the matter with your horse?"
As I had been telling the children all the stories about the river on
the way, I managed to get my head pretty well inside of the carriage,
and, at the time she spoke, was keeping a lookout in front with my back.
The remark of Mrs. Sparrowgrass induced me to turn about, and I found
the new horse behaving in a most unaccountable manner. He was going down
hill with his nose almost to the ground, running the wagon first on this
side and then on the other. I thought of the remark made by the man, and