As they rode along in silence, the echo of the words "little
fool," and the tone in which he had uttered them, lingered upon the
driver's ear. He could not help thinking that he had been rather harsh
with his little passenger. Presently he said,
"I don't care though, - we are coming to a level piece of ground on
ahead here a little way, and then I'll see what you can make of
teaming."
Marco was quite pleased at this unexpected result, and after ten or
fifteen minutes, they came to the level piece of road, and the driver
put the reins into Marco's hand. Marco had sometimes driven two
horses, when riding out with his father in a barouche, up the
Bloomingdale road in New York. He was therefore not entirely
unaccustomed to the handling of reins; and he took them from the
driver's hand and imitated the manner of holding them which he had
observed the driver himself to adopt, quite dexterously.
The horses, in fact, needed very little guidance. They went along the
road very quietly of their own accord. Marco kept wishing that a
wagon or something else would come along, that he might have the
satisfaction of turning out. But nothing of the kind appeared, and he
was obliged to content himself with turning a little to one side,
to avoid a stone.
