“You be still,” said Mr. Beggs, turning a pair of ruddy cheeks on which a broad smile of satisfaction played; “I’ll let you drive when the time comes.”
“When is it coming?” asked Joel, in impatience.
“’Tain’t never comin’,” said Mr. Beggs, “if you ain’t still, an’ behave yourself.”
Joel, very much alarmed at this, sank back in his seat, and kept still till it seemed to him that the ragman had forgotten his promise, so he slid forward and began to clamor again.
“Can I—you said you would,” he teased, stretching out both brown little hands.
“I said when ’twas time,” replied Mr. Beggs, coolly.
“’Tisn’t ever going to be time,” declared Joel, quite gone in despair.
The ragman burst out laughing, but seeing Joel’s face, and also that little Davie on the other side was leaning forward much disturbed since something that Joel didn’t like was being said, he added kindly, “now, Joel, I’ll let you take th’ reins when we come to that house. See it?” and he pointed off with his whip.
“Where—where?” cried Joel, eagerly, and jumping up to his feet.
“Sit down,” cried Mr. Beggs, pulling him back. “Land o’ Goshen, you’ll be out an’ break your neck; then you never’d go with me agin, an’ what would your Ma say?”