Twice as the horse-bus slowly wended its way up the steep hill the door
at the rear opened and slammed. At first those inside paid little heed,
but the third time they demanded to know why they should be disturbed in
this fashion.
"Whist!" cautioned the driver. "Don't spake so loud. He'll overhear us."
"Who?"
"The hoss. Spake low. Shure Oo'm desavin' the crayture. Every toime he
'ears th' door close he thinks wan o' yez is gettin' down ter walk up
th' hill, an' that sort o' raises 'is sperrits."