"Where is Fred Ousley?" asked the minister of him, knowing that the two boys were inseparable.
"He has gone to a picnic."
"Why didn't you go to the picnic?"
"I wasn't invited: it's his cousins'."
"And haven't you any cousins who give picnics?"
"I don't like my cousins: I hate my cousins: Fred hates his cousins: it's a girl that goes with his cousins."
"And what about a girl with your cousins?"
"Well, while you're talking, what about your sons and their cousins? We're running this farm very well, and we're all pleased. From what I have been hearing, it's more than can be said about yours."
The minister laughed good-naturedly at this rudeness as the two friends walked away; but the vicar of the stables observed mildly:—
"You gave him the wrong kind of suggestion, Aleck. It wasn't in your words exactly; I don't know where it was; but I felt it and he felt it: somehow you challenged him to employ his manly art of self-defence; and part of that art is to attack. But never mind about Downs. Now come to the stable: I am going to show you a young thoroughbred there that has never had a disagreeable suggestion made to him: he thinks this farm paradise. And the five great things I tried to teach him are: to develop his will, to develop his speed, to develop his endurance and perseverance, to develop his pride, and to develop his affection: he is a masterpiece."