Harry tossed his head, amused. "It's a case, isn't it, Zeke?" he remarked.
"Yes, sir," returned the coachman. "He comes when he's called, and will eat out of her hand, sir."
Harry laughed and went back to the pony's stall. "Come on, then, Jewel, come to my old stamping ground, the ravine."
"And if her hair frightens the birds it's your fault," smiled Julia, smoothing with both hands the little flaxen head.
"The birds have seen me look a great deal worse than this, a great deal worse," said Jewel cheerfully.
"Perhaps they'll think her hair is a nest and sit down in it," suggested her father, as they moved away, the happy child between them, holding a hand of each.
The little girl drew in her chin as she looked up at him.
"Oh, father, you're such a joker!"