“Yes. Pretty! pretty!”
In her little wagon, to which was attached a wide, curious whiffle-tree, Steenie emerged from the canvas gateway, driving a pair of matched bays. The fifer had stationed himself in the centre of the plain, with a drummer beside him; and if the music they there discoursed was not sweet, at least it was inspiriting, and rendered in good time. Best of all, it was the same that had been used in training the horses, and they recognized it at once, falling into step immediately and almost perfectly.
The tune of “Yankee Doodle” fits perfectly the stepping of a horse; besides which, it is patriotic, and Kentucky Bob was nothing if not American. To the tune of “Yankee Doodle,” then, this “act” was given; and though Mr. Calthorp smilingly apologized that they had not chosen “God Save the Queen,” the delighted Englishman “didn’t mind in the least.”
“What, what! another pair, eh? Hey?”
“Has she made the circuit once?”
“Yes. Four; drives four!”
Around the course again danced the horses, four abreast, and not a break in their paces from start to finish.
“You darlings! you have never done so well! Do you know that I am to drive you no more? And are you being just perfect and splendid for that?”
“Maybe it’s ’cause they’re afeard of the Britisher!” said a vaquero, teasingly.
“No, no! it’s because they love me. Now, you others, remember—not one blunder!” This to the third pair which was being attached to the cart, these last in advance of the other four.