"Madam!" Master thundered, "don't you know that the boy belongs to Bob? How long will it take you to learn that? Must I keep forever dinging it into your ears?"
"Well, you needn't get mad about it."
"That's true, and I beg your pardon. But just let me manage it, if you please. I believe you said yesterday that our carriage is getting too old for you to ride about in?"
"Yesterday? I have talked about it for the past year!"
"Yes, so you have. Well, you may go to Louisville yourself and select one to suit you."
That night I told Bob that we were going off to school together, and we grabbed each other in our glee.
CHAPTER VII.
The next day we were bundled off to school, distant more than thirty miles, driven by the family coachman. Old Master and Old Miss walked with us as far as the big gate that opened into a street of the town. I say, walked with us, but they walked with Bob, I keeping close pace behind, constantly afraid that my mistress would turn upon me with her stout parasol, yet too discreet to fall farther back, lest I might by this show of caution call her wrath upon me. At the gate, when the driver got off his seat and stood by the open door of the carriage, Old Miss put her arms about Bob, with more of affection than I had ever seen her show, and bade him be a good boy and keep his mind on his book. She kissed him time and again and then she turned to me, Old Master standing there waiting for the end of her part of the ceremony: "Dan," she said, "I want you to black his shoes every morning." This, with the tears in her eyes, and with sorrow in her voice, touched a foolish sense within me and I giggled, dodging wisely as I did so; and it was well that I did, for in a fury she struck at me with her parasol. "The infamous imp!" she cried, "standing there laughing at me. General," she demanded, stamping the ground, "wear your cane out on him. I won't be treated in such a manner—I won't put up with everything from that ape."