eir racks, and the little stools
cry out nervously when one barely touches them. It was too much for me. I
was coerced into an outer semblance of decorum. However, I snatched a
hasty glance at Jonathan's face. It was quite red and hot-looking, but
calm, very calm, and I judged it to be the calm, not of defeat nor yet of
settled militancy, but of triumph. I even thought I detected the flicker
of a grin,--the mere atmospheric suggestion of a grin,--as if he felt the
urgent if furtive appeal in my glance. At any rate, Jonathan was all
right, that was clear. And as to Griz--whether she was still one mare or
two half-mares--it didn't so much matter. And now for the sermon! I
gathered myself to attend.

As we stood up for the last hymn, I whispered, "How did it go?"

"All right. She's hitched," was the answer.

After church there was the usual stir of sociability, and when I emerged
into the glare of the church steps, I saw Jonathan driving slowly around
from the rear. Griz walked meekly, her head sagged, her eyes blinked.

"Good quiet little horse you've got there," said a deacon over my
shoulder; "don't get restless standing, the way some horses do."

"Yes, she's very quiet," I said.

I got in, and at last, as we drove off, the flood-gates of my impatience
broke:--

"Well?" I said,--"well?"

"Well--" said Jonathan.

"_Well? Tell_ me about it!"

"I've told you. I hitched her."

"How did you hitch her?"

"Just the way I said I would."

"Didn't she mind?"

"Don't know."

"Did she make a fuss?"

"Not much."

"What do you mean by much?"

"Oh, she set back a little."

"Do any harm?"

"No."

"Hurt herself?"

"Guess not."

"Jonathan, you drive me distracted--you have no more sense for a story--"

"But there was nothing in particular--"

"Now, Jonathan, if there was nothing in particular, _why_ didn't you get
into church till the sermon was begun, and why were you so red and hot?"

Jonathan smiled indulgently. "Why, of course, she didn't care about being
hitched. I thought you knew that. But it was perfectly easy."

And that was about all I could extract by the most artful questions. I
took my revenge by telling Jonathan the deacon's compliment to Griz. "He
said she didn't get restless standing, the way so many horses did. I
thought of mentioning that you were a rather good judge of horses, in an
amateur way, but then I thought it might seem like boasting, so I didn't."

After that, of course,