a turtle-dove;
until his rider fully believed that a pack-thread was enough for him,
and a pat of approval upon his neck the aim and crown of his worthy
life. Then suddenly up went his hind feet to heaven, and the rider for
the most part flew over his nose; whereupon good Kickums would take
advantage of his favourable position to come and bite a piece out of
his back. Now in my present state of mind, being understood of nobody,
having none to bear me company, neither wishing to have any, an
indefinite kind of attraction drew me into Kickum's society. A bond of
mutual sympathy was soon established between us; I would ride no other
horse, neither Kickums be ridden by any other man. And this good horse
became as jealous about me as a dog might be; and would lash out, or run
teeth foremost, at any one who came near him when I was on his back.
This season, the reaping of the corn, which had been but a year ago so
pleasant and so lightsome, was become a heavy labour, and a thing for
grumbling rather than for gladness. However, for the sake of all, it
must be attended to, and with as fair a show of spirit and alacrity as
might be. For otherwise the rest would drag, and drop their hands and
idle, being quicker to take infection of dullness than of diligence. And
the harvest was a heavy one, even heavier than the year before, although
of poorer quality. Therefore was I forced to work as hard as any horse
could during all the daylight hours, and defer till night the brooding
upon my misfortune. But the darkness always found me stiff with work,
and weary, and less able to think than to dream, may be, of Lorna. And
now the house was so dull and lonesome, wanting Annie's pretty presence,
and the light of Lorna's eyes, that a man had no temptation after
supper-time even to sit and smoke a pipe.
For Lizzie, though so learned, and pleasant when it suited her, never
had taken very kindly to my love for Lorna, and being of a proud and
slightly upstart nature, could not bear to be eclipsed in bearing,
looks, and breeding, and even in clothes, by the stranger. For one thing
I will say of the Doones, that whether by purchase or plunder, they had
always dressed my darling well, with her own sweet taste to help them.
And though Lizzie's natural hate of the maid (as a Doone and burdened
with father's death) should have been changed to remorse when she
learned of Lorna's real parentage, it was only altered to sullenness,
and discontent with
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