"Poor Horrors! I ought to have given him extra wages, I think, and instead all I gave him was Epsom salts!"
"He needed them more than wages, I should say," Tom said. "No money would have paid for that pain of Horrors'. Well, you didn't ask him to eat the whole of that pie, so I don't think you need worry. More milk, Garth?"
"Please," said Garth, surrendering a large empty mug. "Daddy, I've got the old pony up!"
"Eh?" said his father, starting. "How did you catch her?"
"I've caught her lots of times," said his son, slightly embarrassed. "She isn't any trouble if you take her a milk-thistle. So to-day I took a halter with me, only I didn't know how to put it on, so I just tied it round her neck and led her up. It's funny how difficult a halter is when it's in your hand—it's all twists and knots."
"H'm," said Tom. "Well, you'd better go and get on her if you want to."
"Oh, Tom——!" began Aileen; and then stopped. This was Tom's business.
Garth had flushed, and his eyes were very bright.
"Truly?"
"Certainly—if you like."