creatures.

Finding spur and whip of no avail, Lynde tried the effect of moral
suasion: he stroked Mary on the neck, and addressed her in terms that
would have melted the heart of almost any other Mary; but she continued
to back, slowly and with a certain grace that could have come only of
confirmed habit. Now Lynde had no desire to return to Rivermouth, above
all to back into it in that mortifying fashion and make himself a
spectacle for the townsfolk; but if this thing went on forty or fifty
minutes longer, that would be the result.

"If I cannot stop her," he reflected, "I'll desert the brute just before
we get to the toll-gate. I can't think what possessed Twombly to let me
have such a ridiculous animal!"

Mary showed no sign that she was conscious of anything unconventional or
unlooked for in her conduct.

"Mary, my dear," said Lynde at last, with dangerous calmness, "you would
be all right, or, at least, your proceeding would not be quite so
flagrant a breach of promise, if you were only aimed in the opposite
direction."

With this he gave a vigorous jerk at the left-hand rein, which caused
the mare to wheel about and face Rivermouth. She hesitated an instant,
and then resumed backing.

"Now, Mary," said the young man dryly, "I will let you have your head,
so to speak, as long as you go the way I want you to."