"THE BOY TESTED THE HALTER, AND PATTED THE HORSE."
Now, there was one curious thing about this crowd which would have been noticeable to a stranger, but had not as yet attracted the attention of the residents. This was the extraordinary number of animals that seemed to be waiting for this train. One would have thought that half the dogs in the neighborhood had relatives coming from Columbia.
"STRAY GOATS AND MULES GAZED EXPECTANTLY."
Stray goats and mules gazed expectantly up and down the track. Cats had followed their owners from the houses and betrayed their devotion by subdued squeals from under their masters' regardless heels. A brindle-brown pig wriggled its way among the crowd, grunting with persistent uneasiness; while a couple of wandering cows, unmolested by the strangely restless dogs, passed and repassed the railroad crossing, bellowing monotonously. The horses at the station exhibited curious discomfort; and Donny de Mone's venerable nag "Ben Bow" astonished the community by pulling at his halter.
While the boy stood valiantly holding the bridle, an old Negro came up and pulled his sleeve. He was a shabby old Negro. His lean knees protruded through his trousers,—a mass of patches from under which the original material, like the jackknife in the mental philosophy problem, had wholly disappeared. It was especially noticeable that tufts of white hair found their way through the holes in his coon-skin cap. Across his shoulder he carried a bundle knotted into an old red handkerchief with a polka spot.
"AN OLD NEGRO CAME UP."
"Say, boss, cud ye tell me whar a poah niggah cud fine a bit o' kivered hay to sleep on, an' a moufful o' pone in de mauhnin? I'se footed it clean from Charleston. I'se gwine to Branchville whar my dahter, Juno Soo, is a dyin' ob fever. She ain't long foh dis wohl. I'se got money 'nuff foh de breffust."
He looked wistfully at the lad. Donny answered with the heartiness of a child who has been brought up to think of others.