It would be instructive to the scientists to watch that team for a few
miles. The horses fairly foam, before they get out of town, but striking
the country road, the fiery steeds come down to a walk, and they mope
along as though they had always worked on a hearse. The shady woods are
reached, and the carriage scarcely moves, and the horses seem to be
walking in their sleep. The lines are loose on the dash board, and the
left arm of the driver is around the pretty girl, and they are talking
low. It is not necessary to talk loud, as they are so near each other that
the faintest whisper can be heard.
But a change comes over them. A carriage appears in front, coming towards
them. It may be someone that knows them. The young man picks up the lines,
and the horses are in the air, and as they pass the other carriage it
almost seems as though the team is running away, and the girl that was in
sweet repose a moment before acts as though she wanted to get out. After
passing the intruder the walk and conversation are continued.
If you meet the party on the Whitefish Bay road at 10 o'clock at night,
the horses are walking as quietly as oxen, and they never wake up until
coming into town, and then he pulls up the team and drives through the
town like a cyclone, and when he drives up to the house the old man is on
the steps, and he thinks John must be awful tired trying to hold that
team.
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