This matter of “helpin' father” seemed to me to be rather arduous. As the horse grew dry the boys grew wet. Perspiration had begun to roll down their faces.
“The trottin'-hoss is the natural ally of the orator an' the conversationalist,” said Mr. Smead. “He stimulates the mind an' furnishes food for thought. A man who has owned a trotter is capable of any feat of the imagination, an' some of our deepest thinkers have graduated from the grand stand an' the sulky. Everybody goes in for trotters here.
“John Griggs an' Colonel Sile an' Horace Brooks an' Bill Warner, all have their trotters. If a farmer gets some money ahead he buys a trotter an' begins to train for speed an' bankruptcy. It helps him to a sense o' grandeur an' distinction. If there's anything else that can be done with money, he don't know it. His boys look like beggars, an' his hoss looks like a prince; just like mine. I told ye I'd show ye a fool, an' here I am—a direct descendant of Thankful Smead by Remember Baker. But I really have a prize in this animal. I expect to sell him for big money.”
Soon we heard the voice of Mrs. Smead at the back door.
“Boys, where are you?” she called.
“Helpin' father,” answered Daniel, the eldest of them.
“Well, breakfast is waiting,” said she, with a touch of impatience in her tone. “You must be getting ready for school.”
“He'll do now,” said Smead. “Put on the coolin' sheet an' walk him for ten minutes.”
A big, spotless sheet blanket was thrown over the shiny, silken coat of the horse, and Rufus began to walk him up and down the yard while the rest of us went in to breakfast.
There was a pathetic contrast which I did not fail to observe, young as I was, between the silken coat of the beast and the faded calico dress of the woman; between his lustrous, flashing eyes and hers, dull and sad; between his bounding feet and hers, which moved about heavily; between the whole spirit of Montravers and that of Mrs. Smead. I saw, too, the contrast between the splendid trappings of the stallion and the patched trousers of the boys. I wondered how the boys were going to be cooled off. They simply took a hurried wash in a tin basin at the back door and sat down at the table in damp clothes. We could hear timid remarks in the kitchen about a worthless horse, about boys who would be late to school, and the delayed work of the day.