Adams shook the lines persuasively; Job waked and began to
trudge along with an air of sombre patience which would have done
credit to the scriptural original of his name.
"I am glad you are all of you used to Job," said Mrs. Adams
smilingly, as they moved slowly down the main street and across
the railroad track. "He really has been a valuable horse in his
day, and there was a time when nothing could go by him,--why,
what is the matter?" And she looked around at the girls on the
back seat, as they burst into an irreverent laugh.
"Nothing, mamma," said Polly, leaning forward with her elbows on
the back of the seat in front of her; "only we thought we'd heard
you say something about it before."
"Let's drop them out, if they're so saucy," suggested Alan. "Don't
you want me to drive, Mrs. Adams?"
"Thank you, Alan; but I don't dare trust you, when you are no more
used to him, for he stumbles so. Go on, Job!" she added, with an
inviting chirrup, as she leaned forward and rattled the whip up
and down in its socket, to remind Job of its existence.
But Job was familiar with that operation, and from long experience
he had learned its lack of significance. Accordingly, he only
tilted one ear back towards his mistress, and went on at his
former jog.
Pages:
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51