castle where the
Sleeping Beauty lay? Or was he going on unawares to the ogre's castle,
where he was to kill the giant and deliver the prisoners?

The little boy did not, perhaps, put these questions into form, but they
were all in his mind, filling him with a vague, delicious exhilaration.
He was all of them put together, and little Geoff Markland beside. He was
afraid of nothing: partly, perhaps, because of his breeding, which
had made it apparent to him that the world chiefly existed for the
purpose of taking care of Geoff; and partly from an innate confidence
and friendliness with all the world. He had no serious doubt that ogres,
giants, and other unpleasant people did exist to be overcome; but so
far as men and women were considered, Geoff had no fear of them, and
he was aware that even in the castle of the ogre these natural aids
and auxiliaries were to be found. He wandered on, accordingly, quite
satisfied with his fancies, until the pony gave that first jerk to the
reins and began his meal. Geoff pulled him up at first, but then began
to reflect that ponies have their breakfast earlier than boys, and that
even he himself was beginning to feel that the time for eating had come.
"We can't both have luncheon," said the little man, "and I think you
might wait, pony;" but he reflected again that, if he could put out his
hand and reach some bread and butter, he would not himself, at that
moment, be restrained by the thought that pony's hunger was unsatisfied.
This thought induced him to drop his wrists and leave pony free. They
formed an odd little vignette on the side of the road: the pony, with
his head down, selecting the juicy spots; the little boy amicably
consenting, with his hands upon its neck. Geoff, however, to those who
did not know that he was consenting, and had philosophically made up his
mind to sanction, in default of luncheon for himself, his pony's meal,
looked a somewhat helpless little figure, swayed about by the movements
of his little steed. And this was how he appeared to the occupants of
a phaeton which swept past, with two fine bay horses, and all their
harness glittering and jingling in the sun. There was a lady in it,
by the driver's side, and both greeted the little boy with a burst
of laughter. "Shall I touch him up for you?" the gentleman cried,
brandishing his whip over the pony's head. This insult went to Geoff's
soul. He drew himself up out of his dreaming, and darted such a glance
at