"You may depend on me, Mr. Houghton."
"I know I can, Bert;" and with a few directions the stable keeper resigned the turnout to Bert.
"You have got a stylish rig, Bert," said Uncle Jacob. "I think we shall have to drive by Albert Marlowe's."
"Just what I would like," remarked Bert, with a smile.
Bert had his share of human nature, and rather enjoyed being seen by his aristocratic relatives in such a stylish turnout.
Supper was over at Squire Marlowe's and the family were sitting on the piazza, the evening being warm, when Percy espied the buggy approaching.
"I wonder who's driving Houghton's best team?" he said.
"By gracious, if it isn't Bert Barton and his mother and Uncle Jacob!" he exclaimed, a minute later.
The squire adjusted his eyeglasses, and looked at the carriage now nearly opposite.
"You are right, Percy," he said.