Doss Umpey was also up and out betimes, looking after his horse, which was stabled in a lean-to behind the wooden house. A sorry beast it was, with knock-knees, and a general air of being worn out, but it had energy enough to try to bite the old man when he endeavoured to put the bit in its mouth.
“Nell, Nell, come here; I want you,” the old man called, in querulous tones. And presently Nell came running round the corner of the house, in response to his call, looking jaded from her night of watching, but with an evident intention to be cheerful, and to keep the peace if she could.
“It is this old hoss again. I can’t think what has come to the creature; it shows its teeth every time I get near it,” he said, handing the bridle to Nell with an air of resignation.
“Want to bite, do you, Blossom? Oh, fie! you must not give way to tempers like these. Don’t you know that bits and bridles mean apples and bread to horses that are good?” she inquired, in coaxing tones, as she drew one hand out of her pocket, gave the horse a glimpse of something eatable in her palm, then dived it out of sight again.
Blossom became instantly docile, opened its mouth for the insertion of the bit, but without showing any desire to bite, then began nosing round Nell’s pockets, in anticipation of the coveted reward.
“You old varmint!” began Doss Umpey, with the evident intention of bestowing a kick on the obstinate old horse; but Nell stopped him with a quick gesture.
“No, you are not to kick the poor old thing. If you do, I will take the bit out of its mouth again and go away, then you will have to manage as best you can,” she said, in a decided tone. And because he knew she would be as good as her word, he desisted from hostilities, and instead proceeded to strap a ragged saddle on to the lean old horse.
Nell gave her guest the best breakfast that she could contrive, but her resources were painfully limited. However, even dandelion coffee, maize-bread, and stringy bacon are better than nothing. So, with yesterday’s starvation fresh in his memory, Dick Bronson ate what was set before him, and was thankful.
Then he pressed payment upon Nell, but she would not take it, even turning away with an air of offence when he endeavoured to persuade her that he would rather pay than be indebted to her for hospitality.
“If you are so anxious to pay for what is done for you, give granfer a little money, but only a little, please, for taking you over to Button End,” she said, with a touch of disdain.