'Oh! you're a precious creatur!' said the man--who didn't venture
by the bye to come out in his true colours until he was safe on the
pavement. 'I wish I had the rewarding of you--I do.'
'What has he been doing?' said Mr Abel, tying a shawl round his
neck as he came down the steps.
'He's enough to fret a man's heart out,' replied the hostler. 'He
is the most wicious rascal--Woa then, will you?'
'He'll never stand still, if you call him names,' said Mr Abel,
getting in, and taking the reins. 'He's a very good fellow if you
know how to manage him. This is the first time he has been out,
this long while, for he has lost his old driver and wouldn't stir
for anybody else, till this morning. The lamps are right, are
they? That's well. Be here to take him to-morrow, if you please.
Good night!'
And, after one or two strange plunges, quite of his own invention,
the pony yielded to Mr Abel's mildness, and trotted gently off.
All this time Mr Chuckster had been standing at the door, and the
small servant had been afraid to approach. She had nothing for it
now, therefore, but to run after the chaise, and to call to Mr Abel
to stop.
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