"That's right, missy. Have a sip of my stout, won't you?"
"No; I don't like it; it's black, nasty stuff. Put it away; I won't touch it. Well, now, listen to me, Uncle Ben. It apends altogether on whether you is good to Orion to-morrow or not whether he wides well, or whether he wides badly, and what I think is this—"
"Well, missy, you are a very wise little miss for your age."
"What I think is this," repeated Diana. "Let Orion wide G'eased Lightning and let me wide Pole Star."
"But you can do anything with Greased Lightning," said the man. "Why, the 'orse fairly loves you, and Pole Star's a rare and wicious sort of beast."
"I aren't fwightened; that aren't me," said Diana, in her usual proud, confident tone. "Orion isn't to wide a wicious sort of beast."
She slipped down from the man's knees and stood before him.
"It aren't me to be fwightened of any horse," she said. "I never was and I never will be."
"I believe yer, miss," said Uncle Ben, gazing at her with great admiration.
"But Orion he is—he is awfu' fwightened of Pole Star, and he sha'n't wide him. Now, G'eased Lightning, he'll do anything for me, and so what I say is this—let Orion wide him, and if he begins to dance about and get sort of fidgety, why, I'll stwoke him down. You know I could pwactice widing a little on Pole Star in the morning."