“Don't I,” cried Wallis; and he winked significantly at his friend.
“Well, what d'ye think; she, and Miss Scragg, her toady, were in the country t'other day, and must needs amuse themselves in an airing upon a couple of prads.
“Well; they were cantering along—doing the handsome—and had just come to the border of a pond, when a donkey pops his innocent nose over a fence in their rear, and began to heehaw' in a most melodious strain. The nags pricked up their ears in a twinkling, and made no more ado but bolted. Poor aunty tugged! but all in vain; her bay-cob ran into the water; and she lost both her presence of mind and her seat, and plumped swash into the pond—her riding habit spreading out into a beautiful circle—while she lay squalling and bawling out in the centre, like a little piece of beef in the middle of a large batter-pudding! Miss Scragg, meanwhile, stuck to her graymare, and went bumping along to the admiration of all beholders, and was soon out of sight: luckily a joskin, who witnessed my dear aunt's immersion, ran to her assistance, and, with the help of his pitch-fork, safely landed her; for unfortunately the pond was not above three or four feet deep! and so she missed the chance of being an angel!”
“And you the transfer of her threes!—what a pity!” said the sympathizing Mr. Timmis.
“When I heard of the accident, of course, as in duty bound, I wrote an anxious letter of affectionate enquiry and condolence. At the same period, seeing an advertisement in the Times—'To be sold, warranted sound, a gray-mare, very fast, and carries a lady; likewise a bay-cob, quiet to ride or drive, and has carried a lady'—I was so tickled with the co-incidence, that I cut it out, and sent it to her in an envelope.”
“Prime! by Jove!”—shouted Mr. Crobble—“But, I say, Wallis—you should have sent her a 'duck' too, as a symbolical memorial of her accident!”
CHAPTER X.—The Pic-Nic.
—-had just spread out their prog on a clean table-cloth, when they were alarmed by the approach of a cow.
