Mr Inglis then walked away, and the boys strolled about the garden in
search of something to amuse them until dinner-time.
Now most people would have been content with taking a chair, and
sitting, book in hand, beneath the shade of one of the trees upon the
lawn. Fred might have done this had he been alone, or Philip would
probably have been likely so to do; but when Harry was in company with
them such a proceeding seemed to be quite out of the question, and so
they wandered about in search of something to take their attention.
But there was some one watching them all this time, and mentally
growling and worrying himself about the boys being at home. Now this
somebody was none other than old Sam, who was up on a ladder against the
house, nailing in some of the long pendant branches of the roses which
had here and there broken loose, and were trailing down low enough to
catch the dresses of those who passed by. Sam had been grunting and
hammering, and hammering and grunting, and he was not in a very good
temper; for, in looking round and watching the boys, he had missed the
head of the nail he was aiming at, and had given a sufficiently hard rap
to his finger to draw blood; and this was of course put down to the
credit of "them boys;" in fact, they could not have met with more blame
if one of them had taken up the hammer and struck the blow, while the
others had aided and abetted.
At last Sam saw them all turn down into the flower-garden, and then, for
fear that something or another by which he set store should be handled,
he got off the ladder and began very cautiously to follow them, going
slowly from tree to tree, and trying to steal quietly up; but all Sam's
caution was unnecessary, as the boys were not in mischief, for they were
only going to the field to try and catch Neddy, the donkey, who had been
on the sick list nearly all the time of Fred's visit, and had been
turned out in a field some distance from the house. But now Neddy had
been reported quite well for some days past, so the boys were determined
upon having a ride, so as to do something towards filling up the time
until after tea, when they were to go to the mill-dam bobbing for eels.
They soon reached the cedar-field, where the cob pony was grazing as
well as the donkey; and as soon as the visitors entered, down went the
pony's head, and up went his heels and tail, and away he galloped as
fast as he could lay his hoofs to the ground, and after him went the
donkey, but only at the rate of about one hundred yards to the pony's
two.
Now the pony was not wanted, but he must needs begin setting a bad
example to the donkey, telling him as plainly as one animal could tell
another that he did not mean to be caught, and, as "evil communications
corrupt good manners," the donkey took the same whim into his great
rough ash-grey head, and galloped after the pony as hard as he could.
It was of no use to say, "come then," or "coop--coop--coop," for both of
the four-footed beasts seemed to have an idea that they were to race and
tear round the field just as long as they liked, and that they could go
far better without saddle, bridle, or rider than they could with.
Seeing how much slower Neddy the donkey was than the pony, it was not
very long before he was cut off from following his companion's capers;
but even then he was as far off from being caught as ever, for he dodged
about and spun round, and, at last, when driven into close quarters, he
tucked his tail in between his legs and kept his heels to the party
attacking him, which was his very Irish fashion of facing the enemy.
"Now, Fred," said Harry at last, "you stand quite still there; Philip,
come in a little closer; and then when I give the word all walk forward
together, and then we must have him. Phew! how hot it is!"
Harry, having posted his forces in the most suitable manner, then stood
ready with a halter in his hand, knowing from fatigue-bought experience
which way Master Neddy would rush, and meaning this time to try and
lasso the rascal.
"Now, then," said Harry, "close in."
The three boys then slowly and cautiously walked towards the donkey, who
was now hemmed up in a corner of the field; and, judging from
appearances, he evidently meant to surrender at discretion. Harry held
the halter all ready to slip over Neddy's head, and in another moment he
would have been captured but for the pony, who, seeing the danger of his
companion, gave a loud neigh and started off full gallop across the
field.
"Pitty-pat; pitty-pat; pitty-pat," went the pony; and, as soon as Neddy
heard it, down went his head, up went his heels, and away he rushed, and
passed Harry like a shot. But Harry was ready for him, and cleverly
threw his halter over the tiresome brute's head. In a moment it was
drawn tight, and as Harry held on to the other end he was dragged along
by the donkey, until his foot tripping in the long grass, he left go of
the halter, and down he went on all-fours, and then rolled over and over
upon the ground; while away went Neddy full gallop to where the pony
stood, and then the two provoking beasts walked right into the middle of
the little corner pond, and stood in the mud and water, whisking their
tails about, and seeming to enjoy finely the mischief of which they had
been guilty.
"There's a beast," said Harry, sitting up in the grass, and chewing bits
of strand. "Won't he catch it next time I get on his back. He shall
pay me for tiring me out in this way. I'll give it him."
"Well, what shall we do?" said Philip; "we can't get at them in the
pond."
"Can't you drive them out with a long whip?" said Fred.
This last idea seemed to strike Harry as being feasible, and another
plan popped into his head at the same moment; so, jumping up with a
"won't-be-beaten" sort of an air about him, he appealed to Philip.
"I say, Phil, old chap, I'm so tired; do go and fetch the whip."
"What's the good?" said Philip; "that won't catch them."
"No, but we'll leave the gate open," said his brother, "and drive them
up the field into the stable, and then we can catch them easily enough."
"Bravo!" said Fred, clapping his hands, but not making any noise from
the fact of having his handkerchief in one, having been wiping his face.
Away trotted Philip, and soon returned with a long cart-whip; and then
once more the boys went to the bottom of the field, and Harry advanced
with the whip in his hand towards the pond.
As for Neddy, Harry might have stood at the edge of the water and
cracked the whip until his donkeyship felt disposed to come out, for not
a bit did he care, knowing full well that he was out of reach, and that
even if the thong could have touched him he would not have felt it
through his thick grey coat; and so stock-still he stood, flapping his
great ears, whisking his tail, and lazily winking his eyes. But it was
different with the pony: he was a thin-skinned gentleman, and not so
much of a philosopher as the ass. He, too, had often felt the whip upon
his flanks, and knew the flavour, and, not being so good a judge of
distance as his companion, as soon as the whip gave the first crack he
made a start, and spattered out of the pond, and away up the field
towards the open gate.
Stock-still stood Neddy.
"Crack!" went the whip again.
"Come out," shouted Harry.
"Poor old fellow, then," said Philip, soothingly.
"No, don't coax him, Phil," said his brother; "he don't deserve it.
Only let me get at him; that's all."
For a few moments, however, there did not seem to be a chance of getting
"at him, that's all;" for the donkey stood as stolidly as ever, till the
pony, as he scampered up the field, gave a triumphant neigh, which
roused Neddy, for he gave a frisk and a splash in the water, and then
rushed out; but he did not escape quite scot-free, for Harry managed to
get one crack at him with the thick end of the whip just as he galloped
up the field.
Harry's manoeuvre proved successful, for they had now only to follow the
donkey up as he went straight into the stable, from whence he was soon
dragged out in triumph, saddled and bridled, and with Philip mounted.
"Now, then," shouted Harry to his brother, as soon as they returned to
the field, "down to the bottom and back, and then it's Fred's turn."
But Neddy would not trot; it was of no use to kick him with your heels,
he would only walk, so Philip called out for a stick, and then when
Neddy saw the stick coming he would not walk but would trot, so that
Harry could hardly catch up to him; but when he did, and handed the
weapon to his brother, the donkey no sooner felt the first touch than
down went his head and up went his heels, and off went Philip on to his
back in the grass.
Neddy would then have started off again, but Harry was too quick for
him, and soon held the rein for his brother to remount.
"He's too fresh," said Harry. "Never mind; jump up, Phil, and we'll
soon take a little of his nonsense out of him."
So away Philip trotted down to the bottom and back again, and then Fred
had a turn and stuck on capitally, only when he wanted to turn to the
left and come up the field again, Neddy would turn to the right and go
the other way--an arrangement Fred was obliged to submit to from the
fact of his whole attention being required to sit on tight, without
guiding his steed.
At last Harry's turn came, and it was some time before he could manage
to mount, for Neddy was very shy of the rough hawthorn stick the lad
held; and so he kept backing and pirouetting until Philip went on the
opposite side with his stick, when the fidgety little scamp suffered
himself to be mounted.
"Crack," went the stick, and up went Neddy's heels. "Crack--crack--
crack," went the stick again, and up went Neddy's heels four, five, six
times over. But the donkey had this time met with his match, and, in
spite of his kicking and shuffling, Harry sat him like a hero. 'Tis
true that he was bumped all sorts of ways--right and left--on to the
donkey's neck--on to his crupper, and was several times nearly off, but
never quite; so that at last Neddy gave up in despair, submitted to his
thrashing, and then cantered down the field and back, and afterwards
allowed himself, with a very good grace, to be ridden about as long as
his masters liked; for they had really proved themselves the masters
that day in more senses than one.
At last Neddy was declared to have done his duty, and was set at liberty
by the stable-door--a good feed of oats being awarded to him as a
recompense for all he had gone through, and then the donkestrians went
in to their mid-day meal, Fred feeling wonderfully improved in his
ability as to riding.