“I shouted again, running toward them, and gesticulating frantically. All at once Ned caught my meaning, and bounding like a deer in front of the gig, grabbed Prince by the head to turn him, but at that very moment a terrible scream from poor Nelly split our ears, and in less time than it takes to tell there was a maddened horse plunging in midair, with four strong men clinging to him, trying to hold him back.
“‘Let him go, boys! Let him go!’ shouted father; ‘it’s no use! Let him go, I tell you! He’ll kill us all!’
“‘Oh, God! I can’t let the old fellow burn up!’ sobbed Steve.
“But Prince had begun to lay about him with his teeth, and father knocked Steve down to get him out of the way.
“I believe we all sobbed, as we watched the old hero go up that hill and into the stable; Nelly was quiet now, and the doors were down.
“We heard him groan once or twice, and then mother came to meet us, and took us all into the house.
“It’s out yonder—the monument we put up. It’s over both of them.”
“Well, what has that horse story to do with men?” asked a sneering voice, when I had finished my little tale, and Mrs. Purblind and I were sitting silent.
I turned, and to my astonishment and disgust saw Mrs. Cynic, who had come in quietly, unobserved by me, as I was reading.
I should not have answered her a word, but Mrs. Purblind thought to avert an awkward situation, so she said: