Kitabı oku: «At the Back of the North Wind», sayfa 15

CHAPTER XXXI. THE NORTH WIND DOTH BLOW

IT WAS a great delight to Diamond when at length Nanny was well enough to leave the hospital and go home to their house. She was not very strong yet, but Diamond’s mother was very considerate of her, and took care that she should have nothing to do she was not quite fit for. If Nanny had been taken straight from the street, it is very probable she would not have been so pleasant in a decent household, or so easy to teach; but after the refining influences of her illness and the kind treatment she had had in the hospital, she moved about the house just like some rather sad pleasure haunting the mind. As she got better, and the colour came back to her cheeks, her step grew lighter and quicker, her smile shone out more readily, and it became certain that she would soon be a treasure of help. It was great fun to see Diamond teaching her how to hold the baby, and wash and dress him, and often they laughed together over her awkwardness. But she had not many such lessons before she was able to perform those duties quite as well as Diamond himself.

Things however did not go well with Joseph from the very arrival of Ruby. It almost seemed as if the red beast had brought ill luck with him. The fares were fewer, and the pay less. Ruby’s services did indeed make the week’s income at first a little beyond what it used to be, but then there were two more to feed. After the first month he fell lame, and for the whole of the next Joseph dared not attempt to work him. I cannot say that he never grumbled, for his own health was far from what it had been; but I can say that he tried to do his best. During all that month, they lived on very short commons indeed, seldom tasting meat except on Sundays, and poor old Diamond, who worked hardest of all, not even then—so that at the end of it he was as thin as a clothes-horse, while Ruby was as plump and sleek as a bishop’s cob.

Nor was it much better after Ruby was able to work again, for it was a season of great depression in business, and that is very soon felt amongst the cabmen. City men look more after their shillings, and their wives and daughters have less to spend. It was besides a wet autumn, and bread rose greatly in price. When I add to this that Diamond’s mother was but poorly, for a new baby was coming, you will see that these were not very jolly times for our friends in the mews.

Notwithstanding the depressing influences around him, Joseph was able to keep a little hope alive in his heart; and when he came home at night, would get Diamond to read to him, and would also make Nanny produce her book that he might see how she was getting on. For Diamond had taken her education in hand, and as she was a clever child, she was very soon able to put letters and words together.

Thus the three months passed away, but Mr. Raymond did not return. Joseph had been looking anxiously for him, chiefly with the desire of getting rid of Ruby—not that he was absolutely of no use to him, but that he was a constant weight upon his mind. Indeed, as far as provision went, he was rather worse off with Ruby and Nanny than he had been before, but on the other hand, Nanny was a great help in the house, and it was a comfort to him to think that when the new baby did come, Nanny would be with his wife.

Of God’s gifts a baby is of the greatest; therefore it is no wonder that when this one came, she was as heartily welcomed by the little household as if she had brought plenty with her. Of course she made a great difference in the work to be done—far more difference than her size warranted, but Nanny was no end of help, and Diamond was as much of a sunbeam as ever, and began to sing to the new baby the first moment he got her in his arms. But he did not sing the same songs to her that he had sung to his brother, for, he said, she was a new baby and must have new songs; and besides, she was a sister-baby and not a brother-baby, and of course would not like the same kind of songs. Where the difference in his songs lay, however, I do not pretend to be able to point out. One thing I am sure of, that they not only had no small share in the education of the little girl, but helped the whole family a great deal more than they were aware.

How they managed to get through the long dreary expensive winter, I can hardly say. Sometimes things were better, sometimes worse. But at last the spring came, and the winter was over and gone, and that was much. Still, Mr. Raymond did not return, and although the mother would have been able to manage without Nanny now, they could not look for a place for her so long as they had Ruby; and they were not altogether sorry for this. One week at last was worse than they had yet had. They were almost without bread before it was over. But the sadder he saw his father and mother looking, the more Diamond set himself to sing to the two babies.

One thing which had increased their expenses was that they had been forced to hire another little room for Nanny. When the second baby came, Diamond gave up his room that Nanny might be at hand to help his mother, and went to hers, which, although a fine place to what she had been accustomed to, was not very nice in his eyes. He did not mind the change though, for was not his mother the more comfortable for it? And was not Nanny more comfortable too? And indeed was not Diamond himself more comfortable that other people were more comfortable? And if there was more comfort every way, the change was a happy one.

CHAPTER XXXII. DIAMOND AND RUBY

IT WAS Friday night, and Diamond, like the rest of the household, had had very little to eat that day. The mother would always pay the week’s rent before she laid out anything even on food. His father had been very gloomy—so gloomy that he had actually been cross to his wife. It is a strange thing how pain of seeing the suffering of those we love will sometimes make us add to their suffering by being cross with them. This comes of not having faith enough in God, and shows how necessary this faith is, for when we lose it, we lose even the kindness which alone can soothe the suffering. Diamond in consequence had gone to bed very quiet and thoughtful—a little troubled indeed.

It had been a very stormy winter, and even now that the spring had come, the north wind often blew. When Diamond went to his bed, which was in a tiny room in the roof, he heard it like the sea moaning; and when he fell asleep he still heard the moaning. All at once he said to himself, “Am I awake, or am I asleep?” But he had no time to answer the question, for there was North Wind calling him. His heart beat very fast, it was such a long time since he had heard that voice. He jumped out of bed, and looked everywhere, but could not see her. “Diamond, come here,” she said again and again; but where the here was he could not tell. To be sure the room was all but quite dark, and she might be close beside him.

“Dear North Wind,” said Diamond, “I want so much to go to you, but I can’t tell where.”

“Come here, Diamond,” was all her answer.

Diamond opened the door, and went out of the room, and down the stair and into the yard. His little heart was in a flutter, for he had long given up all thought of seeing her again. Neither now was he to see her. When he got out, a great puff of wind came against him, and in obedience to it he turned his back, and went as it blew. It blew him right up to the stable-door, and went on blowing.

“She wants me to go into the stable,” said Diamond to himself, “but the door is locked.”

He knew where the key was, in a certain hole in the wall—far too high for him to get at. He ran to the place, however: just as he reached it there came a wild blast, and down fell the key clanging on the stones at his feet. He picked it up, and ran back and opened the stable-door, and went in. And what do you think he saw?

A little light came through the dusty window from a gas-lamp, sufficient to show him Diamond and Ruby with their two heads up, looking at each other across the partition of their stalls. The light showed the white mark on Diamond’s forehead, but Ruby’s eye shone so bright, that he thought more light came out of it than went in. This is what he saw.

But what do you think he heard?

He heard the two horses talking to each other—in a strange language, which yet, somehow or other, he could understand, and turn over in his mind in English. The first words he heard were from Diamond, who apparently had been already quarrelling with Ruby.

“Look how fat you are Ruby!” said old Diamond. “You are so plump and your skin shines so, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

“There’s no harm in being fat,” said Ruby in a deprecating tone. “No, nor in being sleek. I may as well shine as not.”

“No harm?” retorted Diamond. “Is it no harm to go eating up all poor master’s oats, and taking up so much of his time grooming you, when you only work six hours—no, not six hours a day, and, as I hear, get along no faster than a big dray-horse with two tons behind him?—So they tell me.”

“Your master’s not mine,” said Ruby. “I must attend to my own master’s interests, and eat all that is given me, and be sleek and fat as I can, and go no faster than I need.”

“Now really if the rest of the horses weren’t all asleep, poor things—they work till they’re tired—I do believe they would get up and kick you out of the stable. You make me ashamed of being a horse. You dare to say my master ain’t your master! That’s your gratitude for the way he feeds you and spares you! Pray where would your carcass be if it weren’t for him?”

“He doesn’t do it for my sake. If I were his own horse, he would work me as hard as he does you.”

“And I’m proud to be so worked. I wouldn’t be as fat as you—not for all you’re worth. You’re a disgrace to the stable. Look at the horse next you. He’s something like a horse—all skin and bone. And his master ain’t over kind to him either. He put a stinging lash on his whip last week. But that old horse knows he’s got the wife and children to keep—as well as his drunken master—and he works like a horse. I daresay he grudges his master the beer he drinks, but I don’t believe he grudges anything else.”

“Well, I don’t grudge yours what he gets by me,” said Ruby.

“Gets!” retorted Diamond. “What he gets isn’t worth grudging. It comes to next to nothing—what with your fat and shine.

“Well, at least you ought to be thankful you’re the better for it. You get a two hours’ rest a day out of it.”

“I thank my master for that—not you, you lazy fellow! You go along like a buttock of beef upon castors—you do.”

“Ain’t you afraid I’ll kick, if you go on like that, Diamond?”

“Kick! You couldn’t kick if you tried. You might heave your rump up half a foot, but for lashing out—oho! If you did, you’d be down on your belly before you could get your legs under you again. It’s my belief, once out, they’d stick out for ever. Talk of kicking! Why don’t you put one foot before the other now and then when you’re in the cab? The abuse master gets for your sake is quite shameful. No decent horse would bring it on him. Depend upon it, Ruby, no cabman likes to be abused any more than his fare. But his fares, at least when you are between the shafts, are very much to be excused. Indeed they are.”

“Well, you see, Diamond, I don’t want to go lame again.”

“I don’t believe you were so very lame after all—there!”

“Oh, but I was.”

“Then I believe it was all your own fault. I’m not lame. I never was lame in all my life. You don’t take care of your legs. You never lay them down at night. There you are with your huge carcass crushing down your poor legs all night long. You don’t even care for your own legs—so long as you can eat, eat, and sleep, sleep. You a horse indeed!”

“But I tell you I was lame.”

“I’m not denying there was a puffy look about your off-pastern. But my belief is, it wasn’t even grease—it was fat.”

“I tell you I put my foot on one of those horrid stones they make the roads with, and it gave my ankle such a twist.”

“Ankle indeed! Why should you ape your betters? Horses ain’t got any ankles: they’re only pasterns. And so long as you don’t lift your feet better, but fall asleep between every step, you’ll run a good chance of laming all your ankles as you call them, one after another. It’s not your lively horse that comes to grief in that way. I tell you I believe it wasn’t much, and if it was, it was your own fault. There! I’ve done. I’m going to sleep. I’ll try to think as well of you as I can. If you would but step out a bit and run off a little of your fat!” Here Diamond began to double up his knees; but Ruby spoke again, and, as young Diamond thought, in a rather different tone.

“I say, Diamond, I can’t bear to have an honest old horse like you think of me like that. I will tell you the truth: it was my own fault that I fell lame.”

“I told you so,” returned the other, tumbling against the partition as he rolled over on his side to give his legs every possible privilege in their narrow circumstances.

“I meant to do it, Diamond.”

At the words, the old horse arose with a scramble like thunder, shot his angry head and glaring eye over into Ruby’s stall, and said—

“Keep out of my way, you unworthy wretch, or I’ll bite you. You a horse! Why did you do that?”

“Because I wanted to grow fat.”

“You grease-tub! Oh! my teeth and tail! I thought you were a humbug! Why did you want to get fat? There’s no truth to be got out of you but by cross-questioning. You ain’t fit to be a horse.”

“Because once I am fat, my nature is to keep fat for a long time; and I didn’t know when master might come home and want to see me.”

“You conceited, good-for-nothing brute! You’re only fit for the knacker’s yard. You wanted to look handsome, did you? Hold your tongue, or I’ll break my halter and be at you—with your handsome fat!”

“Never mind, Diamond. You’re a good horse. You can’t hurt me.”

“Can’t hurt you! Just let me once try.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Why then?”

“Because I’m an angel.”

“What’s that?”

“Of course you don’t know.”

“Indeed I don’t.”

“I know you don’t. An ignorant, rude old human horse, like you, couldn’t know it. But there’s young Diamond listening to all we’re saying; and he knows well enough there are horses in heaven for angels to ride upon, as well as other animals, lions and eagles and bulls, in more important situations. The horses the angels ride, must be angel-horses, else the angels couldn’t ride upon them. Well, I’m one of them.”

“You ain’t.”

“Did you ever know a horse tell a lie?”

“Never before. But you’ve confessed to shamming lame.”

“Nothing of the sort. It was necessary I should grow fat, and necessary that good Joseph, your master, should grow lean. I could have pretended to be lame, but that no horse, least of all an angel-horse would do. So I must be lame, and so I sprained my ankle—for the angel-horses have ankles—they don’t talk horse-slang up there—and it hurt me very much, I assure you, Diamond, though you mayn’t be good enough to be able to believe it.”

Old Diamond made no reply. He had lain down again, and a sleepy snort, very like a snore, revealed that, if he was not already asleep, he was past understanding a word that Ruby was saying. When young Diamond found this, he thought he might venture to take up the dropt shuttlecock of the conversation.

“I’m good enough to believe it, Ruby,” he said.

But Ruby never turned his head, or took any notice of him. I suppose he did not understand more of English than just what the coachman and stableman were in the habit of addressing him with. Finding, however, that his companion made no reply, he shot his head over the partition and looking down at him said—

“You just wait till to-morrow, and you’ll see whether I’m speaking the truth or not.—I declare the old horse is fast asleep!—Diamond!—No I won’t.”

Ruby turned away, and began pulling at his hayrack in silence.

Diamond gave a shiver, and looking round saw that the door of the stable was open. He began to feel as if he had been dreaming, and after a glance about the stable to see if North Wind was anywhere visible, he thought he had better go back to bed.

CHAPTER XXXIII. THE PROSPECT BRIGHTENS

THE next morning, Diamond’s mother said to his father, “I’m not quite comfortable about that child again.”

“Which child, Martha?” asked Joseph. “You’ve got a choice now.”

“Well, Diamond I mean. I’m afraid he’s getting into his queer ways again. He’s been at his old trick of walking in his sleep. I saw him run up the stair in the middle of the night.”

“Didn’t you go after him, wife?”

“Of course I did—and found him fast asleep in his bed. It’s because he’s had so little meat for the last six weeks, I’m afraid.”

“It may be that. I’m very sorry. But if it don’t please God to send us enough, what am I to do, wife?”

“You can’t help it, I know, my dear good man,” returned Martha. “And after all I don’t know. I don’t see why he shouldn’t get on as well as the rest of us. There I’m nursing baby all this time, and I get along pretty well. I’m sure, to hear the little man singing, you wouldn’t think there was much amiss with him.”

For at that moment Diamond was singing like a lark in the clouds. He had the new baby in his arms, while his mother was dressing herself. Joseph was sitting at his breakfast—a little weak tea, dry bread, and very dubious butter—which Nanny had set for him, and which he was enjoying because he was hungry. He had groomed both horses, and had got old Diamond harnessed ready to put to.

“Think of a fat angel, Dulcimer!” said Diamond.

The baby had not been christened yet, but Diamond, in reading his Bible, had come upon the word dulcimer, and thought it so pretty that ever after he called his sister Dulcimer!

“Think of a red, fat angel, Dulcimer!” he repeated; “for Ruby’s an angel of a horse, Dulcimer. He sprained his ankle and got fat on purpose.”

“What purpose, Diamond?” asked his father.

“Ah! that I can’t tell. I suppose to look handsome when his master comes,” answered Diamond.—“What do you think, Dulcimer? It must be for some good, for Ruby’s an angel.”

“I wish I were rid of him, anyhow,” said his father; “for he weighs heavy on my mind.”

“No wonder, father: he’s so fat,” said Diamond. “But you needn’t be afraid, for everybody says he’s in better condition than when you had him.”

“Yes, but he may be as thin as a tin horse before his owner comes. It was too bad to leave him on my hands this way.”

“Perhaps he couldn’t help it,” suggested Diamond. “I daresay he has some good reason for it.”

“So I should have said,” returned his father, “if he had not driven such a hard bargain with me at first.”

“But we don’t know what may come of it yet, husband,” said his wife. “Mr. Raymond may give a little to boot, seeing you’ve had more of the bargain than you wanted or reckoned upon.”

“I’m afraid not: he’s a hard man,” said Joseph, as he rose and went to get his cab out.

Diamond resumed his singing. For some time he carolled snatches of everything or anything; but at last it settled down into something like what follows. I cannot tell where or how he got it.

 
Where did you come from, baby dear?
Out of the everywhere into here.
 
 
Where did you get your eyes so blue?
Out of the sky as I came through.
 
 
What makes the light in them sparkle and spin?
Some of the starry spikes left in.
 
 
Where did you get that little tear?
I found it waiting when I got here.
 
 
What makes your forehead so smooth and high?
A soft hand stroked it as I went by.
 
 
What makes your cheek like a warm white rose?
I saw something better than any one knows.
 
 
Whence that three-cornered smile of bliss?
Three angels gave me at once a kiss.
 
 
Where did you get this pearly ear?
God spoke, and it came out to hear.
 
 
Where did you get those arms and hands?
Love made itself into hooks and bands.
 
 
Feet, whence did you come, you darling things?
From the same box as the cherubs’ wings.
 
 
How did they all just come to be you?
God thought about me, and so I grew.
 
 
But how did you come to us, you dear?
God thought about you, and so I am here.
 

“You never made that song, Diamond,” said his mother.

“No, mother. I wish I had. No, I don’t. That would be to take it from somebody else. But it’s mine for all that.”

“What makes it yours?”

“I love it so.”

“Does loving a thing make it yours?”

“I think so, mother—at least more than anything else can. If I didn’t love baby (which couldn’t be, you know) she wouldn’t be mine a bit. But I do love baby, and baby is my very own Dulcimer.”

“The baby’s mine, Diamond.”

“That makes her the more mine, mother.”

“How do you make that out?”

“Because you’re mine, mother.”

“Is that because you love me?”

“Yes, just because. Love makes the only myness,” said Diamond.

When his father came home to have his dinner, and change Diamond for Ruby, they saw him look very sad, and he told them he had not had a fare worth mentioning the whole morning.

“We shall all have to go to the workhouse, wife,” he said.

“It would be better to go to the back of the north wind,” said Diamond, dreamily, not intending to say it aloud.

“So it would,” answered his father. “But how are we to get there, Diamond?”

“We must wait till we’re taken,” returned Diamond.

Before his father could speak again, a knock came to the door, and in walked Mr. Raymond with a smile on his face. Joseph got up and received him respectfully, but not very cordially. Martha set a chair for him, but he would not sit down.

“You are not very glad to see me,” he said to Joseph. “You don’t want to part with the old horse.”

“Indeed, sir, you are mistaken there. What with anxiety about him, and bad luck, I’ve wished I were rid of him a thousand times. It was only to be for three months, and here it’s eight or nine.”

“I’m sorry to hear such a statement,” said Mr. Raymond. “Hasn’t he been of service to you?”

“Not much, not with his lameness”

“Ah!” said Mr. Raymond, hastily—“you’ve been laming him—have you? That accounts for it. I see, I see.”

“It wasn’t my fault, and he’s all right now. I don’t know how it happened, but—”

“He did it on purpose,” said Diamond. “He put his foot on a stone just to twist his ankle.”

“How do you know that, Diamond?” said his father, turning to him. “I never said so, for I could not think how it came.”

“I heard it—in the stable,” answered Diamond.

“Let’s have a look at him,” said Mr. Raymond.

“If you’ll step into the yard,” said Joseph, “I’ll bring him out.”

They went, and Joseph, having first taken off his harness, walked Ruby into the middle of the yard.

“Why,” said Mr. Raymond, “you’ve not been using him well.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that, sir. I didn’t expect to hear that from you. He’s sound in wind and limb—as sound as a barrel.”

“And as big, you might add. Why, he’s as fat as a pig! You don’t call that good usage!”

Joseph was too angry to make any answer.

“You’ve not worked him enough, I say. That’s not making good use of him. That’s not doing as you’d be done by.”

“I shouldn’t be sorry if I was served the same, sir.”

“He’s too fat, I say.”

“There was a whole month I couldn’t work him at all, and he did nothing but eat his head off. He’s an awful eater. I’ve taken the best part of six hours a day out of him since, but I’m always afraid of his coming to grief again, and so I couldn’t make the most even of that. I declare to you, sir, when he’s between the shafts, I sit on the box as miserable as if I’d stolen him. He looks all the time as if he was a bottling up of complaints to make of me the minute he set eyes on you again. There! look at him now, squinting round at me with one eye! I declare to you, on my word, I haven’t laid the whip on him more than three times.”

“I’m glad to hear it. He never did want the whip.”

“I didn’t say that, sir. If ever a horse wanted the whip, he do. He’s brought me to beggary almost with his snail’s pace. I’m very glad you’ve come to rid me of him.”

“I don’t know that,” said Mr. Raymond. “Suppose I were to ask you to buy him of me—cheap.”

“I wouldn’t have him in a present, sir. I don’t like him. And I wouldn’t drive a horse that I didn’t like—no, not for gold. It can’t come to good where there’s no love between ‘em.”

“Just bring out your own horse, and let me see what sort of a pair they’d make.”

Joseph laughed rather bitterly as he went to fetch Diamond.

When the two were placed side by side, Mr. Raymond could hardly keep his countenance, but from a mingling of feelings. Beside the great, red, round barrel, Ruby, all body and no legs, Diamond looked like a clothes-horse with a skin thrown over it. There was hardly a spot of him where you could not descry some sign of a bone underneath. Gaunt and grim and weary he stood, kissing his master, and heeding no one else.

“You haven’t been using him well,” said Mr. Raymond.

“I must say,” returned Joseph, throwing an arm round his horse’s neck, “that the remark had better have been spared, sir. The horse is worth three of the other now.”

“I don’t think so. I think they make a very nice pair. If the one’s too fat, the other’s too lean—so that’s all right. And if you won’t buy my Ruby, I must buy your Diamond.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Joseph, in a tone implying anything but thanks.

“You don’t seem to like the proposal,” said Mr. Raymond.

“I don’t,” returned Joseph. “I wouldn’t part with my old Diamond for his skin as full of nuggets as it is of bones.”

“Who said anything about parting with him?”

“You did now, sir.”

“No; I didn’t. I only spoke of buying him to make a pair with Ruby. We could pare Ruby and patch Diamond a bit. And for height, they are as near a match as I care about. Of course you would be the coachman—if only you would consent to be reconciled to Ruby.”

Joseph stood bewildered, unable to answer.

“I’ve bought a small place in Kent,” continued Mr. Raymond, “and I must have a pair to my carriage, for the roads are hilly thereabouts. I don’t want to make a show with a pair of high-steppers. I think these will just do. Suppose, for a week or two, you set yourself to take Ruby down and bring Diamond up. If we could only lay a pipe from Ruby’s sides into Diamond’s, it would be the work of a moment. But I fear that wouldn’t answer.”

A strong inclination to laugh intruded upon Joseph’s inclination to cry, and made speech still harder than before.

“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said at length. “I’ve been so miserable, and for so long, that I never thought you was only a chaffing of me when you said I hadn’t used the horses well. I did grumble at you, sir, many’s the time in my trouble; but whenever I said anything, my little Diamond would look at me with a smile, as much as to say: ‘I know him better than you, father;’ and upon my word, I always thought the boy must be right.”

“Will you sell me old Diamond, then?”

“I will, sir, on one condition—that if ever you want to part with him or me, you give me the option of buying him. I could not part with him, sir. As to who calls him his, that’s nothing; for, as Diamond says, it’s only loving a thing that can make it yours—and I do love old Diamond, sir, dearly.”

“Well, there’s a cheque for twenty pounds, which I wrote to offer you for him, in case I should find you had done the handsome thing by Ruby. Will that be enough?”

“It’s too much, sir. His body ain’t worth it—shoes and all. It’s only his heart, sir—that’s worth millions—but his heart’ll be mine all the same—so it’s too much, sir.”

“I don’t think so. It won’t be, at least, by the time we’ve got him fed up again. You take it and welcome. Just go on with your cabbing for another month, only take it out of Ruby and let Diamond rest; and by that time I shall be ready for you to go down into the country.”

“Thank you, sir, thank you. Diamond set you down for a friend, sir, the moment he saw you. I do believe that child of mine knows more than other people.”

“I think so, too,” said Mr. Raymond as he walked away.

He had meant to test Joseph when he made the bargain about Ruby, but had no intention of so greatly prolonging the trial. He had been taken ill in Switzerland, and had been quite unable to return sooner. He went away now highly gratified at finding that he had stood the test, and was a true man.

Joseph rushed in to his wife who had been standing at the window anxiously waiting the result of the long colloquy. When she heard that the horses were to go together in double harness, she burst forth into an immoderate fit of laughter. Diamond came up with the baby in his arms and made big anxious eyes at her, saying—

“What is the matter with you, mother dear? Do cry a little. It will do you good. When father takes ever so small a drop of spirits, he puts water to it.”

“You silly darling!” said his mother; “how could I but laugh at the notion of that great fat Ruby going side by side with our poor old Diamond?”

“But why not, mother? With a month’s oats, and nothing to do, Diamond’ll be nearer Ruby’s size than you will father’s. I think it’s very good for different sorts to go together. Now Ruby will have a chance of teaching Diamond better manners.”

“How dare you say such a thing, Diamond?” said his father, angrily. “To compare the two for manners, there’s no comparison possible. Our Diamond’s a gentleman.”

“I don’t mean to say he isn’t, father; for I daresay some gentlemen judge their neighbours unjustly. That’s all I mean. Diamond shouldn’t have thought such bad things of Ruby. He didn’t try to make the best of him.”

“How do you know that, pray?”

“I heard them talking about it one night.”

“Who?”

“Why Diamond and Ruby. Ruby’s an angel.”

Joseph stared and said no more. For all his new gladness, he was very gloomy as he re-harnessed the angel, for he thought his darling Diamond was going out of his mind.

He could not help thinking rather differently, however, when he found the change that had come over Ruby. Considering his fat, he exerted himself amazingly, and got over the ground with incredible speed. So willing, even anxious, was he to go now, that Joseph had to hold him quite tight.

Then as he laughed at his own fancies, a new fear came upon him lest the horse should break his wind, and Mr. Raymond have good cause to think he had not been using him well. He might even suppose that he had taken advantage of his new instructions, to let out upon the horse some of his pent-up dislike; whereas in truth, it had so utterly vanished that he felt as if Ruby, too, had been his friend all the time.