Well, strange to say, that very day Mistah Mule shot a glance of triumph at Ebenezer, because of something Farmer Green said to the hired man.
“I declare,” Farmer Green exclaimed, “I don’t see why this mule won’t eat his grain. There can’t be anything wrong with his teeth, for he chews his hay. The only reason I can think of is that he has always been fed something else; and he’s so stubborn he won’t eat what we give him.”
“Maybe he has had whole corn,” the hired man suggested.
Farmer Green nodded.
“I’ll hitch him and Ebenezer up and drive down to the gristmill,” he said. “Perhaps the miller has some corn that he hasn’t ground yet.”
Ebenezer chuckled when he heard that. But he wasn’t pleased because Mistah Mule was going to get the kind of grain he wanted. No! Ebenezer was thinking what a surprise Mistah Mule was going to have when he crowded over against the wagon-pole, as he had when Farmer Green drove them together the day before.
He hadn’t forgotten that Farmer Green had asked Johnnie to bring him a piece of leather, some tacks, and a hammer.
VI
SPEAKING OF HORNETS
Farmer Green had started for the gristmill, driving that ill-matched pair, rascally Mistah Mule and the staid old horse, Ebenezer. When they had swung into the road in front of the farmhouse, Mistah Mule played again that trick which had annoyed Ebenezer the day before. Laying his ears back, he sidled over toward Ebenezer and pressed his flank against the wagon-pole. He knew that the trick bothered Ebenezer. Had not Ebenezer ordered him, yesterday, to “move over”? He knew that it annoyed Farmer Green too. For Farmer Green had spoken to him and tried to guide him aside by pulling on a rein.
Just for a moment Mistah Mule leaned heavily against the wagon-pole. And then he sprang away as if he had touched a red-hot coal. He plunged wildly, switched his tail, and threatened to kick.