Watch Yourself Go By

by Al. G. Field

"Oh, you did not understand me. I did not mean to say that your father whipped you. I heard that he did not give you credit for your—your, that he—he—er hampered you in your—your—er—."

"Oh, I understand pap," interrupted Alfred, "he's all right, we get along all right."

Then Mr. Thornton made inquiries as to where Alfred was going. When the boy informed him, he said: "That's too far to walk; come on out to the stable, I'll loan you a horse. You can ride him home and I will get him tonight."

They walked toward the white mare. Alfred asked what kind of a saddler she was. "Good," answered the man, "would you like to try her?"

"Why, yes, if it's all the same to you."

By this time Alfred was shortening the stirrup straps to the length of his limbs as measured by his arms. Alfred's thinking gear was working faster than the white mare's hoofs ever pounded the earth. As he was about to mount he said: "Mr. Thornton, I'll bring this mare home. I don't want to trouble you to call at our house."

Joe Thornton and Alfred

"Why? I want to see your parents and I want to reward you."

Alfred, sitting on the horse's back, leaned far over toward the man and detailed the sad results of his first venture in minstrelsy.