Now if the boy, who was coming nearer and nearer, had only drawn in to one side or the other, she would have known what to do, and would have pulled in to the opposite side, but he came right along the middle of the road, and the only thing he seemed inclined to do was to drive into them, until at last poor Priscilla was struck with a sudden panic of alarm.
“Father,” she cried, “please, will you drive—I—I don’t know where to go!”
Her father, looking up and seeing what was happening, took the reins, and as he drew Betsy in to the hedge, he called out very sharply to the stupid boy:
“Keep to your own side, boy; do you hear? Pull to the left. Don’t take the whole road. Ah, I see it is Mr. Bennet’s horse and cart you are in charge of? Well, I shall tell Mr. Bennet that you must have a few lessons in driving before you can be trusted with a horse again. You are a danger to every one you meet. You were quite right, Prissy,” he said, giving her back the reins; “the drivers should be next each other when passing, but that boy required the whole road and the ditches too. Would you rather I drove now?”
“Oh no, thank you, I want to drive again.”
She felt ashamed of herself for having been so frightened, and made up her mind to drive past the next vehicle she met, no matter what it was. A great hay-waggon with a load of hay on it soon loomed in sight, and for a moment it seemed as though there was no room in the road for anything else, but Priscilla tried very hard not to be foolish. “The drivers must pass next each other,” she repeated to herself; but this driver was walking at the horse’s head, and he was on the far side of the horse. She would have to go right across the road to pass close by him. “He must be on the wrong side,” she thought. “Oh dear, what a lot of men don’t know the rules of the road.”
When they were safely past she drew a big deep breath of relief, but she felt very glad that she had managed by herself.
“Father, don’t you think all the boys should be made to learn at school that verse you taught me; then they would know better how to drive?”
“I do indeed,” said Dr. Carlyon; “perhaps they would remember a simple little thing like that. It isn’t much they do remember six months after they have left school.”
“Hocking’s son Ned can draw a pear beautifully,” said Priscilla very impressively, “but Hocking didn’t seem a bit glad. He said, ‘Better fit they took and taught ’em how to grow ’em;’ he didn’t see what time Ned was going to have for drawing pears on a bit of paper when he was ‘prenticed.’ Neither do I,” added Priscilla gravely.