"I hope she didn't suffer, John?"
"No'm! no! she died like a Christian, the old mare did. One night she wouldn't take her sugar; I allers gave her the sugar, like you told me, Miss Kitty—"
"Dear, good John! Thank you, John!"
"So I suspicioned what was comin', seein' her age and all. I told S'repty, and she brung out an extry good mash, but 'twas no use. Old mare laid down, and we set there with her. She looked at me real lovin', and put her nose in my hand, and I rubbed her, and S'repty rubbed her; and 'long about ten o'clock she just stretched out and passed away, same as if she was a person."
John Tucker cleared his throat and was silent for a few minutes; then he addressed Pilot, his present joy and pride, with some asperity:
"Git ap, you! No reason for your goin' to sleep that I know of. Miss Kitty—" he glanced sidelong at his companion—"the ro'd's first rate here on the level. I didn't know but you might like to drive a spell—"
"Oh, John!" Kitty looked down ruefully at the gray suède gloves which had seemed just the right thing for traveling. Pilot had a pretty solid mouth. "If I only had some decent gloves!" she sighed.
With a sheepish look, John Tucker fumbled in an outside pocket and pulled out a stout pair of leather gloves, fur-lined.
"S'repty wouldn't give 'em to me!" he chuckled; "but I remembered the drawer where you kep' 'em. You'll need 'em. I kep' him in yes'day a-puppose."
With a flashing, "Oh, John! You are a darling!" Kitty almost snatched the gloves from him. Another moment, and they were speeding along the level, a swallow-flight which brought the blood to the girl's pale cheeks and the light to her eyes.