hunting in each
likely-looking spot, though a blackbird's second brood, a deserted
linnet's nest, and a last year's yellow-hammer's were the sole result
of their search.
"I wish we could make the donkey trot!" said Sylvia, who had
dismounted to spare poor Teddie's legs for the hardest part of the
hill, but had taken her seat again on reaching a level piece of road.
"We'll try what we can do," said Artie, producing his penknife and
cutting a stick carefully from a hazel tree. "I'll give him a switch,
but I advise you to hold on tight, in case he kicks."
It was not a very hard blow, but Teddie seemed to resent it extremely.
He was a donkey with a character, and instead of galloping on, as
Sylvia had hoped, he ran straight into the hedge, where he entangled
both her hat and hair so successfully in a wild-rose bush, that she
had to scream to be released.
"Perhaps you hit him on the wrong side," she suggested, when the
donkey's nose had been pulled out into the lane again.
"Then we'll try the other," said Artie, who, having dropped his stick,
administered a sounding smack on the thick, shaggy coat.
Teddie, however, evidently did not intend to be coerced; he made at
once for the opposite hedge, and Sylvia found herself in equal
difficulties with a long spray of bramble.
"He's the most obstinate little beast I've ever known," said Linda.
"We'll try him just once more. Oswald, you hold his head exactly in
the middle of the road, then Artie and I'll each give him a thump at
the same second, one on each side. Are you ready, Artie! One, two,
three, off!"
[Illustration: "HE ENTANGLED BOTH HER HAT AND HAIR IN A WILD-ROSE
BUSH"]
This time it was really off and away. The donkey took to his heels,
and cantered along the road in fine style, with the boys and Linda
racing after him, encouraging Sylvia, who was laughing and trying to
hold on her hat and to keep the lunch from falling, while Scamp and
Bute barked themselves hoarse. The enamelled mugs bumped against poor
Teddie's sides, and alarmed him so much that perhaps he thought
somebody was switching him in front, and intended him to run
backwards, for he stopped quite suddenly, and lowered his head, with
the result that Sylvia shot over his neck, and found herself sitting
in the dusty road.
"It serves me right!" she laughed. "No, I'm not hurt in the least.
It's too bad to make him trot when he's carrying both me and the
lunch. I'll walk now, and give him a re
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