"He do look moughty glum, suh," he replied, half
fearfully.
"Glum! Why, the amiability in that horse's face is enough to draw tears.
Come up, Prince Rupert, your highness is to go ahead of me; it's to oblige
a lady, you know."
Then, as Prince Rupert was led away, Dan looked at Betty.
"Shall it be the turnpike or the meadow path?" he inquired, with the gay
deference he used toward women, as if a word might turn it to a jest or a
look might make it earnest.
"The meadow, but not the path," replied the girl; "the path is asleep under
the snow." She cast a happy glance over the white landscape, down the long
turnpike, and across the broad meadow where a cedar tree waved like a snowy
plume. "Jake, we must climb the wall," she added to the negro boy, "be
careful about the berries."
Dan threw his holly into the meadow and lifted Betty upon the stone wall.
"Now wait a moment," he cautioned, as he went over. "Don't move till I tell
you. I'm managing this job--there, now jump!"
He caught her hands and set her on her feet beside him. "Take your fence,
my beauties," he called gayly to the dogs, as they came bounding across the
turnpike.
Betty straightened her cap and took up her berries.
"Your tender mercies are rather cruel," she complained, as she did so.
"Even my hair is undone."
"Oh, it's all the better," returned Dan, without looking at her. "I don't
see why girls make themselves so smooth, anyway.
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