“Get along, there!” he cried, drawing the reins tighter.
Mistah Mule stopped short.
“Giddap! Giddap!” Johnnie shouted. “My goodness! I hope he isn’t going to balk. Go on, there!” And he slapped Mistah Mule with the reins.
Mistah Mule laid back his ears, slowly turned his head, and stared at Johnnie Green. There was no doubt that he had balked.
Johnnie didn’t know what to do. His father was waiting for that part for the mowing-machine. And Johnnie hadn’t even reached the village yet.
He sat unhappily on the seat for a few minutes. And then he made up his mind that he would do something. “I’m going to tie this old mule to a tree and walk to the village and back,” he decided.
So he jumped from the wagon and tried to lead Mistah Mule out of the road.
But that stubborn fellow wouldn’t stir.
XIX
THE RACE
Two hours passed. And Farmer Green began to stop his work now and then and glance down the road.