When Jo thought it was funny, that he was loose in the pasture, and kicked up a little behind, father gave him a sharp cut with the whip and said: "Steady boy! Get along there!" Sometimes he said, "Aye, aye! Easy!" but he never stopped a mite.

We whizzed past the church and cemetery, and scarcely touched the Big Hill.

People ran to their doors, even to the yards, and I was sure they thought we were having a runaway, but we were not.

Father began to stop at the lane gate, he pulled all the way past the garden, and it was as much as he could do to get them slowed down so that I could jump out by the time we reached the hitching rack.

He tied them, and followed me into the house instead of going to the barn.