"It's a tournament, Unc' Landy, and I took the ring," cried Nan joyously. "You ought to have seen Pete run the first time, but he was awfully obstinate at the last."
"Pete? You ain' ride dat ole mewl to no tournymint?"
"Yes, I did and he ran, really he did. I'll tell you why." And Nan told how she had lured on the old creature by the odor of apples.
At this story all Unc' Landy's disapproval vanished and he burst into a loud guffaw. "I say yuh meks him run," he cried. "I knows now how to git wuk outen him."
"Oh, but you mustn't fool him," said Nan. "I gave him the apple afterward. It would never do to make him run that way every day or he'd die in his tracks."
"He sholy would ef he keep up dat gait. Come erlong hyar, yuh ole fool creetur. Whafo' yuh kickin' up yo' heels lak yuh young an' frolicsome? I knows yo' age. Come on hyar." And he led off the old mule while every now and then he doubled over with mirth, repeating: "I say run."
"It was great fun," declared Ran. "I didn't know girls ever did such things."
"We do," returned Nan. "We do all sorts of things and mother doesn't care so long as it isn't actually wrong. She likes us to be out-of-doors. We girls play baseball and do lots of things like that."
"Nan won't always play," complained Mary Lee. "She gets too young ladyish sometimes and goes off somewhere to mope."