"Hame, to be sure," said Johnny, with a smile. "It's time noo, I think—I'm just sae far on my way to tak' oot a ticket for the coach."
"Ye needna do that unless ye like," replied Johnny's friend. "Ye may save your siller, and no be abune an hour langer tarried, by takin' a seat wi' me in the gig I hae in wi' me. I'm sure ye're welcome, and I'll be blythe o' your company."
"Hae ye a gig in wi' ye?" said Johnny, looking pleased by the intelligence.
"'Deed hae I, Mr. Armstrong, and ye'll just clink down beside me in't."
"I'll do that wi' great thankfu'ness," replied Johnny, "and muckle obleeged by the offer."
The friends now walked away, arm in arm together; and in about two hours afterwards—Mr. Stevenson having, in the meantime, despatched what business he had to do in
the city—they were both, seated in the gig, and birring it on merrily towards Carlisle.
Neither Mr. Stevenson nor Johnny, however, were great whips—a deficiency which was by no means compensated for by the circumstance of their having a rather spirited horse, although blind of an eye. He was, in truth, a very troublesome animal; boggling and shying at everything that presented itself to his solitary optic. Notwithstanding this, the travellers got on very well for a time, and were whirling over the ground at a rapid rate, when an unlucky cart of hay came in their way at a narrow turn of the road. How this simple occurrence should have operated so unfavourably as it did for them, we shall explain.
A cart of hay is not a very alarming object to rational creatures like ourselves, but to the one-eyed horse of the travellers it appeared a very serious affair; for it had no sooner presented itself to his solitary organ of vision than he pricked up his ears, snorted furiously, and began to exhibit sundry other symptoms of disquietude. By dint, however, of some well-directed punishment from Jamie Stevenson's whip, which Johnny increased by an energetic application of his stick, the restive animal was brought up to the waggon of hay; but, for some time, the inducements just mentioned failed to prevail on him to pass it.
At length, however, Johnny having added greatly to the vigour of his blows with his stick, and his neighbour to that of his strokes with the whip, the horse did pass the waggon, and that with a vengeance. Taking heart, or rather becoming desperate, he bolted past it with the rapidity of a cannon shot; and not only this, but when he had cleared it, continued the velocity of his movements with unabated energy, to the great discomfort and no small terror of both Johnny and his companion, who now found themselves going at a rate which they had neither anticipated nor desired. Indeed, this was so very great that