The farmers looked on with wide-open mouths, too amazed to speak.
Phil uttered a shout, and set the black going about the stack faster and faster, throwing himself into all manner of artistic positions.
After the horse had gotten a little used to the strange work, Phil threw down the reins and rode without anything of the sort to give him any support.
Probably few farm barnyards had ever offered an attraction like it before.
"Come up here!" cried the lad, to the lighter of the men.
"I'll give you a lesson."
The fellow protested, but his companions grabbed him and threw him to old Joe's back. Phil grabbed his pupil by the coat collar, jerking him to his feet and started old Joe going at a lively clip.
You should have heard those farmers howl, at the ludicrous sight of their companion sprawling all over the back of the black, with Phil, red-faced, struggling with all his might to keep the fellow on, and at the same time prevent himself taking a tumble!
At last the burden was too much for Phil, and his companion took an inglorious tumble, head first into the straw at the foot of the stack, while the farmers threw themselves down, rolling about and making a great din with their howls of merriment.
"There, I guess I have earned my breakfast," decided the lad, dropping off near the spot where he had cast his shoes.
"You bet you have, little pardner. You jest come over to the house and fill up on salt pork and sauerkraut. You kin stay all summer if you want to. Hungry?"