He tried no more that day, but soon after attempted a new method of introducing Charlie to a burden. He strapped a folded blanket on his back, and then let him race, and rear, and roll, and fume as much as he liked. After a few fits of rebellion Charlie submitted, and in a few days permitted Dan to mount him, often stopping short to look round, as if he said, half patiently, half reproachfully, “I don’t understand it, but I suppose you mean no harm, so I permit the liberty.”
Dan patted and praised him, and took a short turn every day, getting frequent falls, but persisting in spite of them, and longing to try a saddle and a bridle, but not daring to confess what he had done. He had his wish, however, for there had been a witness of his pranks who said a good word for him.
“Do you know what that chap has ben doin’ lately?” asked Silas of his master, one evening, as he received his orders for the next day.
“Which boy?” said Mr. Bhaer, with an air of resignation, expecting some sad revelation.
“Dan, he’s ben a breaking the colt, sir, and I wish I may die if he ain’t done it,” answered Silas, chuckling.
“How do you know?”
“Wal, I kinder keep an eye on the little fellers, and ’most gen’lly know what they’re up to; so when Dan kep going off to the paster, and coming home black and blue, I mistrusted that suthing was goin’ on. I didn’t say nothin’, but I crep up into the barn chamber, and from there I see him goin’ through all manner of games with Charlie. Blest if he warn’t throwed time and agin, and knocked round like a bag o’ meal. But the pluck of the boy did beat all, and he ’peared to like it, and kep on as ef bound to beat.”
“But, Silas, you should have stopped it—the boy might have been killed,” said Mr. Bhaer, wondering what freak his irrepressibles would take into their heads next.
“S’pose I oughter; but there warn’t no real danger, for Charlie ain’t no tricks, and is as pretty a tempered horse as ever I see. Fact was, I couldn’t bear to spile sport, for ef there’s any thing I do admire it’s grit, and Dan is chock full on ’t. But now I know he’s hankerin’ after a saddle, and yet won’t take even the old one on the sly; so I just thought I’d up and tell, and may be you’d let him try what he can do. Mr. Laurie won’t mind, and Charlie’s all the better for ’t.”
“We shall see;” and off went Mr. Bhaer to inquire into the matter.