CHAPTER XXV.
ABOUT TWO KINDS OF PONIES.
In due time the Sable Island ponies arrived, and were announced to besold by auction, at the Government Wharf. Taking Bert with him, Mr.Lloyd went down in time to have a good look at the shipment before thesale commenced, so that he might have his mind made up before beginningto bid. They certainly were a queer lot of little creatures. Not acurry-comb had touched their hides since they were born, nor had theshears ever been near their manes or tails. Their coats were long,thick, and filled with dirt; their manes and tails of prodigious length,and matted together in inextricable knots. They were of all colours, andwithin certain limits of all sizes. Brown, bay, black, piebald, grey,and sorrel. There was no lack of variety; and Mr. Lloyd and Bertwandered up and down the long line as they stood tethered to the wall,scrutinising them closely, and sorely puzzled as to which to decideupon.
It was, of course, quite impossible to tell anything as to disposition,for all the ponies seemed equally wild and terrified at their novelsituation; but, after going over them carefully, Mr. Lloyd decided upona very promising-looking black pony that stood near the middle of therow. He was of a good size, seemed to be in better condition than manyof those around him, had a well-shaped head, and altogether presentedabout as attractive an appearance as any in the lot.
There were numerous bidders at the auction, and Bert grew deeplyinterested in the selling, as pony after pony was put up, and after amore or less spirited contest, according to his looks, was knocked downto the person that bid the highest for him. By the time the pony hisfather had selected was reached, he was fairly trembling withexcitement. He was full of apprehension lest somebody else should takehim away from them, and when the bidding began, he watched everymovement and word of the auctioneer with breathless anxiety, raisingquite a laugh at one time, by answering his oft-repeated question "Willanybody give me five? I have thirty--will anybody give me five?" with aneager "I will!" that was easily heard by everybody in the crowd. It wasan immense relief to him, when, at length, after what seemed to him mostunnecessary persistence in trying to get more, the auctioneer called out"Going, going, going, at thirty-five dollars. Will you give me any more?Going at thirty-five--going, going, _gone_; and sold to Mr. Lloyd."
Thirty-five dollars does not seem very much to give for a pony; butconsidering that this pony had everything to learn, and nobody toguarantee his good behaviour, it was a fair enough price for him. Thegetting him home proved to be quite a serious undertaking. The strangesights and sounds of the city streets did not merely frighten him--theypositively crazed him for the time; and it took two strong men, one oneither side of his head, to guide him in safety to the stable. Oncesecurely fastened in the stall, he quieted down in time, but not onebite of food would he touch that day, nor the next, although Bert triedto tempt him with everything of which Brownie had been fond. Thistroubled Bert very much. He began to fear his new pony would starve todeath. But his father reassured him.
"Don't be alarmed, my boy. The pony will find his appetite all right sosoon as he gets used to his new quarters," said Mr. Lloyd.
And sure enough on the third morning, Bert, to his great relief, foundthe oat box licked clean, and the pony looking round wistfully forsomething more to eat. After that, the difficulty lay rather insatisfying than in tempting his appetite. He proved an insatiable eater.But then nobody thought of stinting him, especially as his bones werenone too well covered.
It was with great difficulty that he could be persuaded to allow himselfto be groomed. He would start at the touch of the curry-comb, as thoughit gave him an electric shock, and Michael, who combined in himself theoffices of groom and gardener, declared that "of all the pesky, fidgetycritters that ever stood on four legs, he never did see the like of this'ere Sable Islander." Michael's opinion was not improved when he came tobreak the little Sable Islander in, for he led him such a dance dayafter day that his stout heart was well-nigh broken before the pony'swill showed any signs of being broken. However, patience and kindness,combined with firmness, eventually won the day; and Michael, withconsiderable pride announced that "Sable," as it had been decided tocall him, was ready for use.
Mr. Lloyd thought it best to ride Sable for a week or two before Bertshould mount him, and to this arrangement Bert was nothing loath, forthe pony's actions while in process of being broken in had rathersubdued his eagerness to trust himself upon him. As it chanced, Mr.Lloyd came very near paying a severe penalty for his thoughtfulness. Hehad been out several mornings on Sable, and had got along very well. Onemorning while he was in the act of mounting, the gate suddenly slammedbehind him with a loud bang. The pony at once started off at fullgallop. Mr. Lloyd succeeded in throwing himself into the saddle, butcould not get his feet into the stirrups, and when the frightenedcreature upon which he had so insecure a hold swerved sharply round atthe end of the street, he was hurled from his seat like a stone from acatapult, and fell headlong, striking his right temple upon the hardground.
A few minutes later Mrs. Lloyd was startled by a hasty rap at the door,and on opening it beheld her husband supported between two men, his faceghastly pale, and stained with blood from a wound on his forehead. Shewas a brave woman, and although her heart almost stood still withagonised apprehension, she did not lose control of herself for aninstant. Directing Mr. Lloyd to be carried into the parlour and laidgently upon the sofa, Mrs. Lloyd bathed his head and face while Marychafed his hands; and presently, to their unspeakable joy, he recoveredconsciousness. Fortunately, his injuries proved to be comparativelyslight. Beyond a cut on his forehead, a bad headache, and a generalshaking up, he had suffered no material injury, and he would not listento Mrs. Lloyd's finding any fault with Sable for the accident.
"Tut! tut! Kate," said he; "the pony was not to blame at all. Any horsemight have been frightened by a gate banging to at his heels. The faultwas mine in not seeing that the gate was shut before I mounted. No; no,you must not blame poor, little Sable."
Curiously enough, Bert had a somewhat similar experience shortly afterhe began to ride Sable. At a little distance from the house was a hillup which the street led, and then down the other side out into thecountry. The ascent was pretty steep, the descent not so much so, andBert liked to walk his pony up to the top, and then canter down theother side. One afternoon, just as he reached the summit, a littlestreet boy, probably by way of expressing the envy he felt for those whocould afford to ride, threw a stone at Sable, which struck him astinging blow on the hindquarters. Like an arrow from the bow, the ponywas off. Taking the bit in his teeth, and straightening his head out, hewent at full speed down the hill, Bert holding on for dear life with hisheart in his mouth, and his hat from his head.
In some way or other, he himself never knew exactly how, he got both hisfeet out of the stirrups, and it was well for him he did, for just atthe bottom of the hill, when he was going like a greyhound, Sablestopped short, lowered his head, flung up his heels, and, without theslightest protest or delay, Bert went flying from the saddle, and landedin the middle of the dusty road in a sitting posture with his legsstretched out before him. The saucy pony paused just long enough to makesure that his rider was disposed of beyond a doubt, and then gallopedaway, apparently in high glee.
Bert was not hurt in the least. He had never sat down quite sounexpectedly before, but the thick dust of the road made an excellentcushion, and he was soon upon his feet, and in full cry after therunaway. Thanks to a gentleman on horseback who had witnessed the wholescene, and went immediately in chase of Sable, the latter was soonrecaptured, and Bert, having thanked his friend in need, and brushedsome of the dust from his clothes, remounted his mischievous steed, androde him for the rest of the afternoon.
After those two somewhat unpromising performances, Sable settled downinto very good habits, and during all the rest of the time that he wasin Bert's possession did not again disgrace himself by running away orpitching anyone off his back. He never became the pet that Brownie hadbeen, but he was, upon th
e whole, a more useful animal, so that Bertcame to feel himself well compensated for his loss.
About this time Bert made the acquaintance of a pony of a very differentsort. How, indeed, it came to have this name does not seem to be veryclear, for what natural connection can be established between adiminutive horse, and a discreditable method of reducing thedifficulties of a lesson in Latin or Greek? It would appear to be a veryunjust slur upon a very worthy little animal, to say the least.
Bert's first knowledge of the other kind of pony was when in the courseof his study of Latin he came to read Sallust. Caesar he had foundcomparatively easy, and with no other aid than the grammar and lexiconhe could, in the course of an hour or so, get out a fair translation ofthe passage to be mastered. But Sallust gave him no end of trouble.There was something in the involved obscure style of this old historianthat puzzled him greatly, and he was constantly being humiliated byfinding that when, after much labour, he had succeeded in making somesort of sense out of a sentence, Dr. Johnston would pronounce histranslation altogether wrong, and proceed to read it in quite anotherway.
As it happened, just when Bert was in the middle of those difficulties,Mr. Lloyd was called away from home on important business which entailedan absence for many weeks, and consequently Bert was deprived of hisassistance, which was always so willingly given.
He had been struggling with Sallust for some time, and was making butvery unsatisfactory headway, when one day, chancing to express to RegieSelwyn his envy of the seeming ease with which the latter got along,Regie looked at him with a knowing smile, and asked:
"Don't you know how I get my translation so pat?"
"No," replied Bert; "tell me, won't you?"
"Why, I use a pony, of course," responded Regie.
"A pony!" exclaimed Bert, in a tone of surprise. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, come now," said Regie, with an incredulous smile. "Do you mean tosay that you don't know what a pony is?"
"I do, really," returned Bert. "Please tell me, like a good fellow."
"Come along home with me after school, and I'll show you," said Regie.
"All right," assented Bert; "I will."
Accordingly, that afternoon when school had been dismissed, Bertaccompanied Regie home, and there the latter took him to his room, andproduced a book which contained the whole of Sallust turned into clear,simple English.
"There," said he, placing the volume in Bert's hands; "that's what Imean by a pony."
Bert opened the book, glanced at a page or two, took in the character ofits contents, and then, with a feeling as though he had touched aserpent, laid it down again, saying:
"But do you think it's right to use this book in getting up yourSallust, Regie?"
Regie laughed and shrugged his shoulders.
"Where's the harm, my boy. If you can't translate old Sallust byyourself, you can't, that's all, and you've got to wait for Dr. Johnstonto do it for you. Now, mightn't you just as well get it out of this bookat once, and save all the trouble," he argued, glibly.
This was very fallacious reasoning, but somehow or other it impressedBert as having a good deal of force in it. The simple truth was that hewas willing to be convinced. But he did not feel quite satisfied yet.
"Then, of course, you never look at it until you have done your best toget the lesson out without it?" he asked.
"That depends. Sometimes I do, and sometimes I don't," answered Regie,in a tone that implied very plainly that the latter "sometimes" occurredmuch more frequently than the former.
Bert took up the book again and fingered it thoughtfully.
"Could I get one if I wanted to?" he asked, presently.
"Why, of course," answered Regie. "There are many more at Gossip's whereI got this, I guess."
Bert said no more; and the two boys soon began talking about somethingelse.
For some days thereafter Bert was in a very perplexed state of mind. Itseemed as though "the stars in their courses" were fighting not against,but in favour of his getting a "pony" for himself. His father's absencewas indefinitely prolonged, the Sallust grew more and more difficult,and demanded so much time, that Bert's chance of winning one of theprizes for general proficiency was seriously jeopardised.
Instead of dismissing the subject from his mind altogether, he fell toreasoning about it, and then his danger really began, for the more hereasoned, the weaker his defences grew. There seemed so much to be saidin favour of the pony; and, after all, if he did not resort to it untilhe had done his best to work out the translation unaided, what would bethe harm?
Clearly Bert was in a perilous position. Right and wrong were stronglycontending for the victory, and much would depend upon the issue of theconflict.