Daisy by Elizabeth Wetherell
page 35 of 511 (06%)
page 35 of 511 (06%)
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peculiar symmetry of mane and tail; he was a fat dumpy little
fellow, sleek and short, dapple grey, with a good long tail and a mild eye. Preston declared he had no shape at all and was a poor concern of a pony; but to my eyes he was beautiful. He took one or two sugarplums from my hand with as much amenity as if we had been old acquaintances. Then a boy was put on him, who rode him up and down with a halter. "He'll do, Darius," said Preston. "For little missis? Just big enough, massa. Got no tricks at all, only he no like work. Not much spring in him." "Daisy must take the whip, then. Come and let us go look at some of the country where you will ride. Are you tired, Daisy?" "Oh, no," I said. "But wait a minute, Preston. Who lives in all those houses?" "The people. The hands. They are away in the fields at work now." "Does Darius live there?" "Of course. They all live here." "I should like to go nearer, and see the houses." "Daisy, it is nothing on earth to see. They are all just |
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