"And I don't. That's the odds. He is rayther antiquated even for my business. The crows will have a bone or two to pick with him one of these days. Think they won't?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: If you please, I should like to take a ride?--p. 109.]

"If you please I should like to take a ride," said Flora, for the third time.

"Polly want a cracker?"

Flora did not understand what the driver meant by that, so she again repeated her request, at which he laughed heartily and said,--

"Polly does want a cracker."

"Then why don't you give it to her?" queried Flora.

"Would you?"

"I would."

"You are particular who you ride with, I reckon."

"I am."

"You pick and choose your company, you do."

"I do."

"Well, then, scramble up. The seat is rayther narrow, but we can stow close."

"That is not polite. Gemplemen don't do that way."

"They don't, eh?"

"No. They get down and help ladies up."

"You don't expect me to get down!"

"I do."

"What! when I have been bobbing round all day?"

"Yes!" said Flora.

"Can't do it. I've got the rheumatiz."

"My Grandma has that,--in her back."

"She does, eh?"

Flora nodded.

"Well, you may give my respects to the old lady, when you see her, and tell her I have got it too."

"I will. Want to go to ride, now."

"And you won't scramble up?"

"Want you to get down."

The driver laughed, but held out his hand, and bade her take a good hold. The hand was very red, and it was greasy; but Flora did not mind that. She grasped it firmly, and was lifted to the narrow seat, and then the lame horse started into a jog. Beside being narrow, the seat was so short that Flora had to sit very close to the greasy driver, and her pretty blue dress was not improved by contact with his frock, which was blue, also.

"Papa's horse does not dance that way," she said, regretfully.

"It isn't every horse that can be trained to that sort of thing,"

returned the driver, gravely. "Mine, now, is one out of a thousand. How will your pa swap?"

"I wish he would," she answered earnestly, for the first time looking her companion full in the face. "Why!" she exclaimed, joyfully, "It is you, isn't it?"

"Oh, yes! it's me. Have you just found that out?"

"I thought you was a stranger."

"You did, eh!"

"I did."

"I knew you was a stranger all the time."

"But I ain't."

"No?"

"No. I am Flora Lee."

"And who am I?"

"You are Mr. Podge."

"Podge?"

"You are."

"Not if I know myself."

"You are, too, Mr. Hodge Podge. That's what you told me. Don't you remember your own name?"

He remembered all about it now, and he laughed so heartily at the recollection, that he dropped the reins, and had to get down to pick them up, which pleased Flora very much. When the reins dropped, the limping horse stood still.

"I didn't know it was you, Miss Fiddle-de-dee," he said, as he mounted to his seat, and urged him into a jog again.