“But, then,” said Mrs. Leslie, “just think how much of his time he spends standing under the tree, doing nothing but wait.”
“Why, mamma,” put in Johnny, “you know he knows the car will be along presently, and while he’s waiting he’s resting from the last trip, and getting up his muscle for the next one, so it isn’t exactly doing nothing, even when he’s standing still.”
“And you don’t imagine that it makes him feel sorry that he hasn’t a special car of his own to pull, but must just help other horses pull theirs?” pursued Mrs. Leslie.
“I should think he’d be pretty foolish if he felt that way,” said Johnny, confidently; “he’s doing something just as good, in fact, I think perhaps it’s better, for he must make the two regular horses feel good every time they come ’round there. Oh mamma, you’re laughing! You’ve made me catch myself the worst ki—I mean dreadfully! I see just what you mean; you might as well have said it; you think that till I am old enough to have a car of my own, I ought to be an extra horse!”
“But how could Johnny be a horse, mamma?” asked Tiny, deeply puzzled.
They were out of the car by this time, and Tiny amiably joined in the laugh which greeted this question.
“I’ll explain how he could when we sit down by the lake, darling,” said her mother, “You and Johnny walk on slowly, now, while I stop here for a few minutes and leave my work—the parcel, Johnny, please!”
For Johnny was marching off with the parcel under one arm, and Tiny under the other.
When they were comfortably seated on the shady green bank by the lake, Mrs. Leslie explained to Tiny that she did not really expect Johnny to turn into a horse, but that everybody who is looking out for chances to help other people over their hard places will be sure to find plenty to do.