But Betty was not bashful.
"What are you doing?" she asked, and a very inquisitive face stared at him from the depths of the pink sun-bonnet.
"'Is it a horse?' queried Betty."
"H'm!" said John, and made a few more strokes with his pencil.
"Is it a horse?" queried Betty. "Yes it is—there are no horns, and it's too big for a dog or cat. Yes, it's a horse."
"H'm!" said John again. Then he looked at his handiwork, drawing further off to see it from Betty's point of view.
"Yes," he said, with badly concealed pride; "it's a horse right enough. It's a race-horse. I drew him from memory."
"Why didn't you draw him on paper?" asked the small girl.
"Won't be let. And no sooner do I see a bit of blank wall than I begin drawing something on it," said the reader of Self-made Men.