“I’ll give you a good lesson to-morrow,” said Jo, “show you how to put a set of harness together. The big buckle under his forelegs and the two straps on the sides wrapped about the shafts were all that you should have opened.”
The harness showered down in dozens of little straps.
“I didn’t know there were so many straps in the world!” exclaimed Ben. “And look at Jerry over there. He is laughing at us, too.”
“We don’t get many city hicks out here, do we, Jerry?” Jo took a sly nudge as he rubbed the soft nose of the old horse, and Jerry opened his mouth in a wide bored yawn. “That’s the way to treat ’em,” said Jo. “Yawn again, a bigger one this time.”
The Seymours rushed through their supper, for they were eager to see the first real storm of the season beat against the cliffs. Fred had promised that there would be gorgeous sights, to-night and all day to-morrow, and they did not wish to miss a bit more than necessary.
Mr. Seymour was eager to see the color of sea and sky and rocks and the struggle of the wind against the water. Ben found the curling, twisting sea fascinating to watch as the wind closed down beyond the pond rocks. The gale seemed to have shut them into a wide semicircle, for the tops of the tallest pines far against the sunset were swaying and bending gently, while the house and the meadow still stood in the first soft yellow twilight where not a breath of air moved. It was early yet, for the Seymours had fallen into country ways and it was hardly six o’clock.
Jo joined the group as they stood watching the sea. He touched Ann lightly on the shoulder. “Come over here if you want to see the gulls now,” he said, and Ann went with him to the corner on the kitchen side of the house.
Ben followed, for he wished to see the birds. Anything that had movement interested him enormously, the flight of the gulls as well as the sweeping onward of the crested waves.