The horses came from town and, though stabled by Mr. Neal, were in a way additional members of the shack family.
“For a man who fled to the country to be alone, this is going some,” Archibald said to himself, as for the first time he rode up the meadow path, leading a second saddled horse. Pegeen and Wiggles and Spunky and Boots and Peterkin—who was not yet well enough to respond to the call of the wild, were all on hand to welcome the new animals, and Archibald’s eyes twinkled as he viewed the collection.
“This is where you take your first riding lesson, Peg. I’m going to put you on Zip,” he said gaily. “Will the menagerie break loose if you take your eye off it? Suppose the baby should choke the pup and the pup should bite the cat and the cat should eat the crow?”
“They’ll be good,” promised Pegeen comfortably as she loosened the baby’s strangle-hold on the pup. “Aren’t those horses splendid? I wonder how Susy feels about them. It’s real hard on her, I think, having them come into her own barn, putting on city airs, and saying snippy things about farm horses and farm ways.—I’ll bet they do. They look that way—sort of proud and finicky and stuck up, but maybe the country’ll do them lots of good. They’re most certain to like Susy after they really get to know her. She’s so sensible and nice.”
“Sure thing,” agreed Archibald. “Nothing like living in the country for giving one a sense of values.”
Peggy’s face was flushed with excitement. Her lips and eyes were brimming with smiles as she waited to be tossed up to the saddle.
“I’ve been on Susy and on Mr. Frisbie’s Dick,” she said, her voice trembling a little with eagerness, “but never on a real, prancy riding horse like Zip.”
“Not afraid?” Archibald asked, noticing the quiver of the voice.
She looked surprised.
“Afraid? Me? Not a bit. Some way or other I always forget to be afraid of things till afterwards; but I’m so excited that my throat’s all shirred up in puckers.”