“Don’t ever say that,” the girls yelled.
“Sure ’nough, let’s sneak up to Tumble Inn before we open it or there won’t be a greasy spot around.”
“Food!” Olivia cried, meeting them in the hall. “I, the great gourmand, detect the presence of delicately browned viands!”
“Aw boloney!” Betsy fibbed. “Don’t you know clean clothes come in suit boxes.”
It wasn’t an outright story, but it discouraged Olivia. When they opened the box and saw what a real feast Mammy had prepared, they were gladder than ever she had not followed.
Six rolls of sandwiches—three tuna fish and three pimiento cheese—a loaf of orange bread, a date loaf, a quart jar of peach pickles, and a drained carton of mixed pickles Mimi liked better.
Mimi was so happy and grateful. She intended to write Cissy that very night but she was too excited about the Horse Show. She wished she could have her own King to ride. She could even hurdle on him. There were several points she intended to ask Honky about changing gaits in the ring, but the time was too short. At least she had sent Cissy a world of thanks by him. That eased her mind when she delayed writing. Until it was over, the Show was first and foremost.
Mimi knew that appearance counted much with the people in the grand stand and that often judges were influenced by applause. Therefore, she gave careful attention to her habit. Her best outfit was black and white. She hoped for a sunny day so that her white gaberdine pants would not seem too out-of-season. Her black patent leather boots shone. She punched another hole in the belt Betsy gave her Christmas. She brushed and brushed her derby and finally fastened a chin strap to it. She would need her hands for something besides grabbing for her hat. To break the monotony of black and white and to identify her further, she sewed a Sheridan green satin arm band on her sleeve. She fastened her white entry number to the green satin band.
She rode hard and heeded carefully every instruction the groom gave. The horses were pedigreed thoroughbreds and accustomed to the show ring. Mimi, at home in the small English saddles, gained skill and confidence each afternoon.
She was not particularly surprised when the day of the Show she, the youngest of the entrants, won the coveted Good Hands Cup class. Putting Morning Star through the customary walk, trot and canter was a cinch. Mimi felt sure that if given a chance, he could go through them by himself. When the ten contestants were thinned to five and Mimi with the four remaining in the ring was asked to change mounts, she was not disturbed. Easily she flung herself off Morning Star and one foot in the stirrup, one hand on the pommel, with one swing she was astride Blue Boy. Walk, trot, canter. What a stance Blue Boy made before the stand. Fore feet forward until he nearly bowed. Neck arched, head high.