“The old horse would pull until he dropped. I’m afraid he might hurt himself,” he replied.
“Why don’t you use the mule?” cried Johnnie Green.
“I could try him, I suppose,” said his father. “But I’m almost certain he wouldn’t pull an ounce.”
“Oh, do try him, Pa!” Johnnie Green begged. When he wasn’t driving Mistah Mule himself, Johnnie liked to see that stubborn fellow balk.
Both the old horse Ebenezer and Mistah Mule, who stood side by side in the barn, pricked up their ears and listened to all this talk.
“Huh!” Mistah Mule grunted, as he cocked an eye at his neighbor. “They needn’t think I’se a-goin’ to hurt myself a-pullin’ on their ole wagon.”
“I don’t blame you the least bit,” the old horse Ebenezer told him. “To be sure, you’re a stout chap. Maybe you could yank the wagon out of the hole—if the bays would pull too—without much trouble. But why should you do that?”
It amazed Mistah Mule to hear such advice from old Ebenezer. And a very stubborn look came over his face.
“I could twitch that wagon out quick—if I wanted to,” he declared.
“But you don’t want to,” said Ebenezer. “If you tried—and failed——”