“Fergot?” queried Jefferson, looking from one animal to the other. “Ah cyant see nothin’ I’se done fergot, Miss Ste’son. What it look lak ain’t on de hawses, ma’am?”
“Why their eyes seem so prominent. They seem to see too much, er—”
Beverly was attacked with a sudden paroxysm of coughing. Jefferson nearly disgraced himself, but managed to stammer:
“We doesn’t ingen’ally put blinders on de saddle hawses, Miss, but ef yer says so I’ll tak ’em long back ter de stables an’ change de saddle headstalls fer de kerridge ones, tho’ it sure would look mighty cur’ous.”
“No! No! Certainly not. It was merely a remark in passing. You are the better judge of the requirements I dare say,” and Miss Stetson beat a hasty retreat, entirely forgetting to warn her charges against venturing beyond bounds.
Could she have seen Beverly’s lips set she might have grown suspicious. The riding party started, Jefferson muttering:
“Ma Lawd! dat ’oman suah do make me tired. Blinders on ma saddle hawses! Huh! ‘Mr. Jefferson’. Reckon I bettah tek ter callin’ her Sis’ Angeline,” Angeline being Miss Stetson’s christian name.
When the grounds of the school were left a few miles behind her Beverly drew up to Sally’s side and said significantly:
“She did not tell us to keep within bounds.”
“She forgot to. She was too busy missing the blinders,” laughed Sally. Beverly laughed softly and continued: