“I should like it of all things too!” cried Thucydides Thorn.
“The howdahs used here are very small,” observed Oscar; “there is room for but two persons in them.”
“All right. You prefer walking, or riding a tat [country pony]; Io and I will sit in the howdah.”
“You forget the young Karen,” said Oscar. “She must sit with her lady.”
“Oh, I say!” exclaimed Thud with more of the school-boy than of the philosopher in his manner and tone; “a dirty brown beggar on an elephant’s back, and I on a wretched tat!”
“No one obliges you to go at all,” observed Coldstream.
But Thud was resolved to make one of the party, even if a tat were to be his only means of conveyance. Besides, he had thought of a less ignoble steed.
“I’ll ride Io’s pony, Lightfoot,” said he.
“Io may choose sometimes to ride him herself,” observed Oscar. “We shall take a lady’s saddle with us.”
“Besides that, dear Thud,” said Io, “you might spoil Lightfoot’s paces or harden his mouth; you have only as yet ridden donkeys.”