Chapter II.
Accidents.
Marco liked his seat upon the outside of the stage-coach very much. He
could see the whole country about him to great advantage. He was very
much interested in the scenery, not having been accustomed to travel
among forests and mountains. The driver was a rough young man, - for
the boy who drove the coach up to the door was not the regular driver.
He was not disposed to talk much, and his tone and manner, in what he
did say, did not indicate a very gentle disposition. Marco, however,
at last got a little acquainted with him, and finally proposed to the
driver to let _him_ drive.
"Nonsense," said he, in reply, "you are not big enough to drive such a
team as this."
"Why, there was a boy, no bigger than I, that drove the horses up to
the door when we started, this morning," replied Marco.
"O yes, - Jerry," - said the driver, - "but he'll break his neck one of
these days."
"I didn't see but that he drove very well," said Marco.
The driver was silent.
"Come," persisted Marco, "let me drive a little way, and I'll do as
much for you some day."
"You little fool," said the driver, "you never can do any thing for
me. You are not big enough to be of any use at all."
Marco thought of the fable of the mouse and the lion, but since his
new companion was in such ill-humor, he thought he would say no more
to him. A resentful reply to the epithet "little fool," did in fact
rise to his lips, but he suppressed it and said nothing.
It was fortunate for Marco that he did so. For whenever any person has
said any thing harsh, unjust, or cruel, the most effectual reply is,
generally, silence. It leaves the offender to think of what he has
said, and conscience will often reprove him in silence, far more
effectually than words could do it. This was the case in this
instance. 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.
