“Whoo! Whoo, I say! Gee—haw! Whoo! WHOA! WHOA-UP!”
We had reached the brow of a little hill, at the base of which a pretty brook meanders across the road, and the frightened animals plunged down the hill regardless of their reputation for slowness.
As we left the brow of the hill we saw at the house Tom waving the lunch basket and calling to us to stop. He thought it was a trick, but we knew it wasn’t.
We beckoned him to come and then we gripped the sides of the wagon and wondered just how it would end.
At the side of the bridge the road led into a by path to the water and the wise Goodman, fearing that we would not keep the bridge at the rate we were going gee-ed them into the by path.
Whether the water had a cooling effect on them or what was the reason, I cannot say, but just as the wagon was in mid stream the forward oxen stopped, their example was passed down the line as it is on a freight train, and the series of jolts was finally communicated to the wagon and James and Minerva turned back summersaults into the water.
We all choked with laughter when they emerged, dripping.
“Don’t like cow ridin’,” said Minerva, shaking mud and water from her hat.
They were not hurt and by the advice of Ethel, Minerva went back to the house to get dry clothing. James waited to show her a short cut across the fields, so that we need not wait, and Tom came up with the lunch basket just as the cavalcade started again.
“Sorry I didn’t bring a wheel along,” said Tom. “If we find we’ve forgotten anything else it’ll be hard catching up. There’s quite some go in those beasts.”