“Doesn’t it?” assented Rachel absently, counting the ham sandwiches. “Do you suppose the hills are very steep, Betty?”
“Oh, I guess not. Anyhow Katherine and I told the man we were going there and wanted a sure-footed horse.”
“Who’s going to drive?” asked Roberta.
“Why, you, of course,” said Katherine quickly. “You said you were used to driving.”
“Oh, yes, I am,” conceded Roberta hastily and wondered if she would better tell them any more. It was true that she was used to horses, but she had never conquered her fear of them, and they always found her out. It was a standing joke in the Lewis family that the steadiest horse put on airs and pranced for Roberta. Even old Tom, that her little cousins drove out alone–Roberta blushed as she remembered her experience with old Tom. But if the girls were depending on her–“Betty drives too,” she said aloud. “She and I can take turns. Are you sure we have enough gingersnaps?”
Everybody laughed, for Roberta’s fondness for gingersnaps had become proverbial. “Half a box apiece,” said Rachel, “and it is understood that you are to have all you want even if the rest of us don’t get any.”
When the horse arrived Roberta’s last fear vanished. He was meekness personified. His head drooped sadly and his eyes were half shut. His fuzzy nose and large feet bespoke docile endurance, while the heavy trap to which he was harnessed would certainly discourage all latent tendencies to undue speed. Alice Waite, Rachel and Katherine climbed in behind, Betty and Roberta took the front seat, and they started at a jog trot down Meriden Place.
“Shall we go through Main Street?” asked Roberta. “He might be afraid of the electric cars.”
“Afraid of nothing,” said Betty decidedly. “Besides, Alice wants to stop at the grocery.”
The “beastie,” as Katherine called him, stood like a statue before Mr. Phelps’s grocery and never so much as moved an eyelash when three trolley cars dashed by him in quick succession.