“Let Mabel,” said George, politely. “Ladies always go first.”
“I’d rather you’d go first so I can see how you do it,” said the little girl, and George was glad, for he did want very much to get on Tinkle’s back again. He had ridden a little at the stock farm and, oh! it was such fun!
Patrick helped George into the saddle, and then led Tinkle about the yard, for Mr. Farley wanted to make sure the pony would be safe for his little boy to ride.
“I’ll be very careful,” said Tinkle to himself. “George and his sister are going to be kind to me, I’m sure. I’ll not run away.”
Tinkle remembered what his father and mother had told him about behaving when he was in the harness, or had a saddle on.
“And if I’m good,” thought the pony, “maybe I’ll get more lumps of sugar.”
“Let him go now and see if I can drive him,” said George to Patrick. So the coachman stepped aside and George held the reins in his own hands.
“Gid-dap, Tinkle!” cried George, and the pony knew this meant to go a little faster. So he began to trot on the soft, green grass of the big yard about the Farley home.
“Oh, how nice!” cried Mabel, clapping her hands.