“Threw ’em where?” said Carl.
“Anywhere—to little boys, and beggars, and poor people, and gate-openers, and such like.”
“Why didn’t he keep ’em?”
“He had enough besides—gold and silver. He didn’t want pennies and halfpennies.”
“I wish you had kept some of them,” said Carl.
“I never had them to keep. I couldn’t keep but what he gave me, nor that either. He was always taking out and putting in.”
“Did he wear the red off?” said Carl.
“No. I didn’t stay long enough with him. He was travelling in some part of England with a friend, riding over a wide lonely plain one day; and they saw a little distance ahead a cow in the road, lying down, right across their path. ‘Stapleton,’ said my master, ‘let us clear that cow.’ ‘Can’t your servant do that?’ said Mr. Stapleton. ‘Do what?’ said my master. ‘Clear that beast from the road,’ said his friend. ‘Pshaw!’ said my master,—‘I mean, let us clear her at a bound. Leave her in quiet possession of the road, and we take an air-line over her back.’ ‘Suppose she took a stupid notion to get out of our way just as we are in hers?’ said Mr. Stapleton. ‘I don’t suppose anything of the kind,’ said my master; ‘we shall be too quick for her.’ With that they put spurs to their horses, but it happened that Mr. Stapleton’s horse got the start and was a little ahead. He cleared the cow well enough, but, unluckily it gave her an impression that just where she was it was a poor place to be; and she was throwing up her hind legs at the very minute my master came to take the leap. He was flung over and over, he and his horse, over and under each other—I don’t know how. I only know my master was killed.
“His friend and his servant picked him up and laid him by the roadside; and while Mr. Stapleton went full speed to the nearest town to get help, the other stayed behind to take care of his master, and do what could be done for him. But he very soon found that nothing could be done for him; and then, as nobody was in sight, he took the opportunity to do what he could for himself, by rifling his master’s pockets. He pulled out several things which I suppose he didn’t dare to keep, for he put them back again after a careful look at them, and after carefully taking off some seals from the watch-chain. I did not fare so well. He had me in his hands a long time, taking out and putting in silver and gold pieces,—afraid to keep too much, and not willing to leave a crown that might be kept safely; when a sudden step heard near, and the bursting out of a loud whistle, startled him. He jumped as if he had been shot; which was natural enough, as he was running a pretty good chance of getting hanged. I was dropped, or thrown behind him, in the grass; and before the countryman who came up had done asking questions, the horses of Mr. Stapleton and assistants were seen over the rising ground. They carried away my unfortunate first master, and left me in the grass.
“I knew I shouldn’t stay there long, but I was found sooner than I hoped. Before the evening had closed in, the sun was shining yet, I heard the tread of light feet,—somebody nearing the road and then crossing it. In crossing, this somebody came just upon me; and a kind sunbeam touching one of my silver points, I embraced the opportunity to shine as hard as I could. People say it is dangerous to have bright parts; I am sure I never found it out. I shone so she could not help seeing me. It was a girl about fifteen or sixteen years old: a slim figure, very tidy in her dress, with light brown hair nicely put back from her face; and her face a very quiet, sweet one. She looked at me, inside and out, looked up and down the road, as if to see where I had come from, and finally put me in her pocket. I was very glad nobody was in sight anywhere, for I knew by her face she would have given me up directly. She left the road then, and went on over the common, which was a wide, lonely, barren plain, grass-grown, and with here and there a bunch of bushes, or a low stunted tree. She was going after her cows, to bring them home; and presently, seeing them in the distance, she stood still and began to call them.”