Here Mr. Woodburn spoke. He knew that New York people were, comparatively

speaking, inferior riders, and he conjectured why Mr. Wilmot hesitated; so

he said: "Here, Jim, lead the horse up to the block for the gentleman"; then

turning to the bystanders, said, as if apologizing for Wilmot: "You know

it is so thickly settled in New York that they do not ride as much as we

do, and probably the young man has always been at school."

This was satisfactory to the white portion of the audience, but not to the

group of blacks, who were assembled at the corner of the house. They

thought it a shame not to be a good rider and when they saw the awkward

manner in which Mr. Wilmot finally mounted the horse and the ludicrous

face of Jim Crow as he sprang up behind him, they were, as they afterward

told Aunt Esther, "dreffully tickled and would have larfed, sartin, if

they hadn't knowed marster would have slapped their jaws."

"And sarved you right," was the rejoinder of Aunt Esther.

But to return to Mr. Edson. As soon as Mr. Wilmot, Jim and Prince had

disappeared, he felt a return of his fears concerning the "confounded

Abolitionist." Thought he, "What a fool I was to let Prince and Jim Crow,

too, go off with that ar' chap! Thar's Prince, worth a hundred and fifty,

and Jim, at the least calculation, 'll fetch eight hundred. Well, anyway,

they can't get far on that dirt road, so if Jim isn't home by nine, I'll

go after 'em, that's so." Having settled the matter thus satisfactorily in

his own mind, he called for his horse and started for home.

Meantime Mr. Wilmot was slowly wending his way toward Mr. Middleton's. It

took but a short time for him to ascertain that the road was fully equal

to the description given of it by Mr. Edson. At times he could scarcely

keep his head, and he felt conscious, too, that the black machine behind

him was inwardly convulsed with laughter at his awkward attempts to guide

the horse in the best part of the road. At length he ventured a remark: "Jim, is this animal ugly?"

"Ugly! Lor' bless you, marster, is you blind? As handsome a creetur as

thar is in the country!"

Mr. Wilmot understood that he had used the word ugly in its wrong sense,

so he said: "I do not mean to ask if the horse is ill-looking, but is he skittish?"

"If marster means by that will he throw him off, I don't think he will as

long as I'm on him, but sometimes he is a leetle contrary like. Reckon

marster ain't much used to ridin'."




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