It was Pete Grimes's wicked temper, and his wicked disposition; that's what it was." It was well for Susy that her over-strained feelings now found vent in words and tears.

"There is no grief like the grief which does not speak." Her dumb agony gave way, and she wept and raved like a little wild thing.
Mrs.Parlin ordered the boys to lead the pony around to the back door, and there she washed out his wounds, trying all the while to soothe Susy, whose heart was beating a quick-step, and who trembled in every limb.
"Old Grimes is dead, that good old man!" repeated Prudy, with angry emphasis; "but it wasn't _his_ father.

No, indeed; with the old blue buttons down the back! Why, Peter is an awful man! I saw him once, and his face looked as if he'd been rubbing it on a pen-wiper! There, Susy, don't you cry," she added, applying a moral lesson to her sister's wounded feelings, like a healing plaster; "he's dreadful wicked, and one of these days he'll get hurt his own self; a horse'll strike _him_!" "Yes, a horse'll strike _him_!" echoed Dotty Dimple.
"But what good will that do Wings ?" moaned Susy.

"Evil for evil only makes things worse." Her indignation did not lessen, but rather increased, the longer she reflected upon the subject.

What right had a man to abuse anybody's horse--more especially hers?
"Mr.Grimes ought to be 'dited, and sent to the Reform School or State's Prison this very night," said she, in her wrath.