Benny had reached a stage of exhaustion which made him indifferent to almost everything, so he only blinked at the boy, and then dropped his head again on the grass.
"Art a tired?" said the boy at length.
"Ay," said Benny, without opening his eyes.
"Wilt a 'ave a lift?"
"What's a lift?"
"A ride, then, if it's properer."
"Ay, I'll ride; but 'ow's I to get in?"
"Oh, aisy 'nough," said young Giles, jumping out of the cart and lifting Benny in as if he had been an infant.
"Golly," said Benny, coming out with his once favourite expression, "you're mighty strong!"
"Strong? You should see me lift a bag o' corn! Now, Dobbin," to the horse. "Gee, meth-a-way," and the horse moved on at what seemed a stereotyped pace.