The
old Squire was at his little desk in the sitting-room, looking over his
season's accounts.
"You go in and tell him," Addison said to me.
I dreaded to do it, but at last opened the door and stole in.
"Ah, my son," the old gentleman said, looking up, "so you are back."
"Yes, sir," said I, "but--but we've had trouble, sir, terrible trouble."
"What!" he exclaimed. "What do you mean?"
"We've had a dreadful time. Some bears came out ahead of us and scared
the horses!" I blurted out. "And we've lost six of them! They ran off
the ledges into Saddleback brook and broke their legs. We had to kill
them."
The old Squire jumped to his feet with a look of distress on his face.
Addison now came into the room, and helped me to give a more coherent
account of what had happened.
After his first exclamation of dismay, the old Squire sat down and heard
our story to the end. Naturally, he felt very badly, for the accident
had cost him at least a thousand dollars. He did not reproach us,
however.
"I have only myself to blame," he said. "It is a bad way of taking
horses into the woods--leading so many of them together. I have always
felt that it was risky.
Pages:
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355