"
"Oh, Mr. Bazalgette!"
"Have you forgotten what you told me? 'Try and make me happy some
other way,' says you. Now I remembered hearing you say what a nice
pony you had at Font Abbey; so I sent a capable person to collect
ponies for you. These have both a reputation. Which will you have?"
"Dear, good, kind Uncle Bazalgette; they are ducks!"
"Let us hope not; a duck's paces won't suit you, if you are as fond of
galloping as other young ladies. Come, jump up, and see which is the
best brute of the two."
"What, without my habit?"
"Well, get your habit on, then. Let us see how quick you can be."
Off ran Lucy, and soon returned fully equipped. She mounted the ponies
in turn, and rode them each a mile or two in short distances. Finally
she dismounted, and stood beaming on the steps of the hall. The groom
held the ponies for final judgment.
"The bay is rather the best goer, dear," said she, timidly.
"Miss Fountain chooses the bay, Tom."
"No, uncle, I was going to ask you if I might have the cream-colored
one. He is so pretty."
"Ha! ha! ha! here's a little goose. Why, they are to ride, not to
wear. Come, I see you are in a difficulty. Take them both to the
stable, Tom."
"No, no, no," cried Lucy. "Oh, Mr. Bazalgette, don't tempt me to be so
wicked." Then she put both her fingers in her ears and screamed, "Take
the bay darling out of my sight, and leave the cream-colored love."
And as she persisted in this order, with her fingers in her ears, and
an inclination to stamp with her little feet, the bay disappeared and
color won the day.
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