OLD JACK.
EAR me!" exclaimed Mrs. Smith, as she looked from the kitchen-window of her farmhouse; "there are uncle Joe, and aunt Peggy, and all the girls! They have come to tea, I'm certain, and I haven't a speck of green tea in the house. Uncle Joe can't drink any thing else, and he must have white sugar in it too.
"Here, Mike, Mike! take a basket, jump on old Jack, and go to the store just as fast as you can. Get a pound of the best green tea and three pounds of white lump sugar. Now mind you are back in half an hour."
Mike was delighted. He had come to live on the farm only the week before, and in all his life had never been on the back of a horse or donkey. He had looked every day with longing eyes at Jack grazing quietly in the pasture, and had thought how happy he should be if he were ever allowed to have a ride on him. So off he started in great glee, saying to himself, "It will be easy enough to manage this little fellow."
When about half a mile on the way, they came to a brook, and Mike thought he would let Jack have a drink. This was all very well; but, when Mike wanted to go on, Jack had changed his mind, and concluded not to go any further.
Mike pulled and pulled on the bridle, trying to turn him back into the road; but the obstinate creature planted his feet firmly, and would not budge an inch.
Just then a kind old Irishman came, on the little foot-bridge, over the brook, and Mike called to him to know what he should do. "Sure, you must have a stick, sonny," said the man. "Donkeys won't go without the stick."
So he cut a stick from a tree near by, and gave it to Mike, who used it as hard as he could, but to no purpose. Then the old man took another, and, going behind the little beast, touched him up smartly with it, at the same time giving his tail a funny little twist.
This was more than Jack could stand. He gave in and jogged on. But he would go very slowly, in spite of Mike's urging, and now and then he would amuse himself by kicking out his hind-legs, and trying to throw Mike off.
Once, too, just as they were starting back from the grocer's he suddenly lay down flat, and threw Mike over his head, scattering basket and bundles.
Poor Mike was half an hour late; but, when he told good Mrs. Smith all his troubles, she excused him. She laughed hard, too, when Mike said, like a true-born Irish boy, "Sure, marm, I never want to ride Jack again till I've learned how."
IDA FAY.
