A MOUNTAIN POND 81. 



never timed him, the older one — not the 

 driver — answered, with the merriest of 

 grins. I expressed wonder that they coukl 

 manage him with a single rein. "Oh, I 

 can drive him without any line at all." 

 " But how do you steer him ? " said I. " I 

 yank him and I pull him," was the laconic 

 reply, which by this time had to be shouted 

 over the boy's shoulder; and away the 

 crazy trap went, the wobbling wheels 

 describing all manner of eccentric and 

 nameless curves with every revolution ; and 

 the next minute 1 heard it rattling over the 

 bridge. Undoubtedly the young fellows 

 thought me a green one, not to know that 

 a yank and a steady pull are equivalent to a 

 gee and a haw. " Live and learn," said I 

 to myself. It was a jolly mode of traveling, 

 at all events, as good as a circus, both for 

 the boys and for me. 



On my way through the village, at noon, 

 I passed the steer turned out to grass by 

 the roadside, and had a better look at the 

 harness, a simple, homemade affair, includ- 

 ing a pair of hames. The driving-rope, 

 wliich in its original estate might have 

 been part of a clothes-line or a bed-cord, 



