Gustav opened the gateway preparatory to setting out. I jerked the reins and called out—“Go along!”
The steed in my cab, however, did not pay the least attention to my manipulations; so far as I could see, he had fallen asleep again.
I now began to belabour his back with the whip; even that was but half successful; he gave a little shrug of disdain, and stood still as if fastened to the ground.
“You must hit around further to the front!” cried Gustav from the gate; “he don’t feel anything on his back any more!”
So I whipped him on the neck, but, lo and behold, he did not seem to approve of such treatment. He threw his head back, shook his ears as much as to say, “Have the goodness to desist from such foolishness!” And when I paid no attention to his objections, he suddenly lifted his hinder part and “thump” went his hoofs against the cab, making me shake and tremble upon my box.
Now Gustav came walking up to me slowly.
“Give it to me,” he said, taking the whip out of my hand; “I’ll have a talk with him.”
The way Gustav “talked to him” seemed to make a decided impression upon the steed, for before I knew it he started in a canter, so that I was obliged to seize the reins convulsively in both hands.
“My hat,” I shrieked, for I felt that the cocked hat was parting company with my head in a graceful curve. It was not until I was out on the street that I succeeded in quieting the excited nag.
“Dear me, this—is—a—malicious beast!” I called out breathless to Gustav, who was running after us with the hat and whip.