WHAT MOPSIE DID.
It was a proud day for Cricket when the saddle was first put on the back
of her very own pony, and Mike mounted her. Not that she needed to be
mounted, as a rule, for she was quite equal to grasping the shaggy mane,
and scrambling up into the saddle herself, but this was such an
important occasion that ordinary methods would not do.
Mike was quite as proud as Cricket was, of the black pony. To think that
but for his kindness and devoted care poor little Mopsie’s bones would
now be whitening in some field! And not only that, but to think his
favourite Miss “Scricket” now had a pony of her own, all owing to him.
He had polished up Mopsie to the last degree, and now that the pony had
its pretty little saddle on, just like Charcoal’s, the two did not make
a bad pair.
All the younger fry gathered to watch this first mounting. Dr. Ward was
there, also, for he did not know whether Mopsie had ever carried a
little girl before, and he wanted to make sure that everything was
right. The children cantered up and down the avenue to the gates and
back, and even Charcoal seemed to think that two ponies were much more
fun than one. Mopsie was a bit stiff at first, but he soon grew more
limber, and at last papa said that they might ride down the road,
outside the gates.
“Hurrah! get up, Mopsie!” cried Cricket, bringing the whip lightly down
on Mopsie’s black flank, and tightening the rein a little. To her great
surprise Mopsie began to rise on his hind legs, till his front feet
waved in the air, and then he gravely stalked away on the two legs, with
Cricket wildly clutching his mane.
“Get down, Mopsie,” she shrieked. “Why, I’m falling off. Get down this
minute.”
Papa and Mike both ran to the rescue, but knowing little Mopsie seemed
to feel that, after all, this was not what was expected of him, so he
slowly lowered his front feet, and stood quietly waiting for further
orders.
Mike was full of apologies for his pet.
“It’s the way ye drew the line, Miss Scricket,” he said, anxiously.
“It’s only wan of thim cirkis-tricks. See! he don’t mane no harm, at
all, at all.”
“Oh, it’s lots of fun,” cried Cricket, excitedly, when she discovered
that Mopsie evidently thought he was only doing his duty. “I wish I
could make him do it again.” But just what pull of the rein was
necessary to tell him to rear she could not find out, though she jerked
the patient pony’s head this way and that.
“But I’m afraid to have you go out of the yard, my little girl,” said
papa, “for Mopsie might rear like that any time and throw you.”
“Oh, no, papa, really,” pleaded Cricket, “for he goes up so slowly, that
now that I know what’s coming, I’m not a bit afraid, and he comes right
straight down.”
However, papa would not consent to Cricket’s making a circus-rider of
herself till she understood Mopsie a little better, so there were two or
three weeks of riding within the grounds. At last there came a day when
papa said that he thought Mopsie was now enough accustomed to a little
girl’s riding him to go straight along the road.
It was the day after Fourth of July when the children took their first
ride out into the country. Dr. Ward, mounted on his big gray horse, went
with them for some distance, and then gave them permission to ride along
the lake-road and so home, while he rode further on, on some business.
It was lovely riding along by the lake-road, where it was all cool and
shady, on that hot morning. The edge of the road sloped rather steeply
to the lake, but most of the way there was an old fence along there. In
some places it was broken down. Now and then a fire-cracker in the
distance made both ponies jump a little. Charcoal, especially, was very
nervous about fire-crackers, for once some one had fired off a whole
package right under his nose, and he had been dreadfully frightened.
Presently the little girls came to a place where some lovely, rare
flowers were growing by the lake side, and Cricket jumped off her pony
to get them. It was one of the places where the fence was broken down,
so she slipped down the bank to pick the flowers, leaving Mopsie
cropping a tuft of grass above.
As she did so, three small boys, who were in hiding in the bushes,
suddenly jumped up and fired off a whole pack of crackers, flash! bang!
right under Charcoal’s sensitive nose.
There was a scream from Eunice, Charcoal jumped sideways, and in a
moment Charcoal, Mopsie and Eunice rolled down the steep bank, and were
struggling in the water, while Cricket stood horrified on the bank. The
water was very deep there, even close to the shore, and the force of the
fall carried all three some distance out. Cricket and the very
frightened small boys set up shriek after shriek, but the road was very
lonely, and no houses were near. No one was in sight to render aid.
Charcoal was nearest the shore, and swam to the bank; he scrambled up
like a dog, and stood shivering on the brink, much too frightened to do
anything but stand still.
Here, in this strait, Mopsie’s circus-training came to the front. As he
and Eunice both rose to the surface, she struggling and screaming, the
knowing little pony caught her dress in his teeth, and began to swim
slowly towards the shore with his burden. Fortunate, now, that he had
learned to carry heavy things in his teeth like a dog. It was only a
short distance he had to swim, and in a few minutes he was near enough
for Cricket, steadying herself by an overhanging branch, to reach
forward and help draw Eunice in. Mopsie scrambled up as Charcoal had
done, and stood quietly shaking himself, like a big Newfoundland dog.
For a few minutes the children could do nothing but hug each other and
cry. Then Cricket exclaimed, “Oh, you dear, darling old Mopsie! you
saved my Eunice’s life,” and hugged her brave little pony tightly around
its wet neck. Then Eunice put her dripping arms around it, too.
“You dearest Mopsie,” she half-sobbed, “I’m so glad you were a
circus-pony, for just a plain horse mightn’t have been able to hold my
dress so, and I’m going to love you just as much as I do Charcoal.”
Two very funny-looking children rode into the yard a little later. Great
was the excitement when the story was told, and Mopsie had enough
petting and praise and sugar to turn an ordinary horse’s head. Doctor
Ward said that, without doubt, Eunice would have drowned but for
Mopsie’s training to catch and hold things in his teeth, and besides
that, he said that the little fellow’s circus life had probably done for
him what education does for people generally—made him readier and
quicker.
After that Cricket had the best of it when anybody teased her about
riding a circus-pony, for she would exclaim, “I don’t care if he was. He
saved Eunice’s life, for papa said so. And a plain horse wouldn’t have
known how.”
And Eunice would add: “We love him all the better for it, because he had
to learn how to be an every-day pony, and he’s learned it so well.”