As they neared the meeting-house Mr. Whitman told James to rein up, and pointed out to him the horse block. This was a large stick of timber placed near the main entrance of the church, one end of which rested upon the ground, while the other was raised so as to be on a level with the stirrup of the tallest horse. This arrangement accommodated everybody; the elderly people rode to the upper end, where they could dismount on a level, and where was a little platform, and a pair of steps with a railing, by which they could descend from the timber, while the others dismounted lower down. Many of the young gallants, however, disdained to make use of the horse-block at all.
Great was the wonderment when James drove up to the block in such a manner that the old grandfather could step out on the platform; and then drove to the hitching-place under a great locust tree, in the branches of which was hung the sweep of a well that furnished the people and animals with water, as there was no house in the vicinity, and most of the congregation came long distances to meeting.
From one to another the whispered inquiries and comments went around.
“Who is that driving the Whitmans?” said Joe Dinsmore to Daniel Brackett.
“That’s Whitman’s redemptioner.”
“Pshaw! what are you talking about, most likely it’s some relation of theirs from Lancaster. A mighty good-looking fellow he is, too; and has seen a horse afore to-day.”
“I tell you it’s his redemptioner.”
“And I tell you I know better. Why, man alive, do you think a redemptioner who’s a half fool, as everybody knows his redemptioner is, and was took out of a workhouse, would look, and act, and handle horses as that chap does?”
“Well, there’s Sam Dorset, the drover, knows him, and has spoken to him; I’ll leave it to him.”
Beckoning to Dorset, who was sitting on the horse-block, to come near; Brackett asked, —