Down the road towards him she comes in a sharp gallop, striving to stop the animal with her voice, evidently not the least frightened, but holding on to the pommel of the saddle with one hand while she makes desperate grasps at the hanging rein with the other.
The young Puritan smiled, he took in the situation with a glance, and felt no fear for her but rather amusement.

He was on the top of a steep hill, and he knew he could easily stop the horse as it came up; even if she did not succeed in regaining her bridle, owing to the better chances the hill gave her.
"She is plucky, anyhow, if she is rather a tame wench," said he, as the girl grasped the bridle rein at last, when about half way up the hill, and became again mistress of the blooded creature beneath her.
"Is that the way you generally ride, Dulcibel ?" asked the young man smiling.
"It all comes from starting without my riding whip," replied the girl.
"Oh, do stop!" she continued to the horse who now on the level again, began sidling and curveting.
"Give me that switch of yours, Jethro.

Now, you shall see a miracle." No sooner was the switch in her hand, than the aspect and behavior of the animal changed as if by magic.

You might have thought the little mare had been raised in the enclosure of a Quaker meeting-house, so sober and docile did she seem.
"It is always so," said the girl laughing.

"The little witch knows at once whether I have a whip with me or not, and acts accordingly.