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This talk took place the next morning when they had all rested and, like all healthy young things, were eager for adventure. They had been welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. Canary in a way that put the most bashful at ease. Even Ida Bellethorne had soon recovered from that sense of strangeness that had at first overpowered her. The girls had been able to help her out a little in the matter of dress.
That particular one deals with Mr. Bolter's black mare, Ida Bellethorne. Cliffdale is the place he was shipping her to far her health." "Never!" cried Bobby. "Oh, Bob! Is that so?" gasped Betty. Bob burst into open laughter. "That's a good one on you and on your friend, Ida," he declared. "If she has gone to meet her aunt up in New York State she'll meet a horse instead. How's that for a joke?"
The rope had evidently fouled in the block and he was trying to detach it. "That's Hunchie Slattery!" gasped Betty, "What a chance he is taking!" For everything was sheathed in ice from the effect of the rain and frost of the night before. That timber was as slippery as glass. Ida Bellethorne set off on a run for the barn; but unlike Bobby she did not say a word.
Ida Bellethorne began to cool down after a while and Betty could guide her more easily. She had begun to talk to the pretty creature soothingly, and leaned forward in her saddle to pat the mare's neck. "I don't blame you for being scared, Ida Bellethorne," crooned Betty. "I was scared myself, and I'm scared yet. But don't mind. Just be easy.
"What do you mean?" asked Betty, her heart pounding suddenly and her eyes growing brighter. Ida Bellethorne placed her hand upon Betty's chest, looking at her closely as she asked the question: "Didn't Mrs. Staples give it to you? That beautiful locket, you know. Aren't you allowed to wear it?" "Dear me!" exclaimed Betty. "How curious you are.
She was not often so kind to him. "You are a good child, Tommy Tucker," she proclaimed saucily, as she beat the loose snow off his coat. "In time you may be quite nice." Betty and Ida Bellethorne praised him too; but Bob continued to laugh and when the party started on again the others learned why he was so amused.
"Which Ida Bellethorne do you mean?" asked Mr. Gordon, while Betty stared. "I was thinking of my beautiful black mare. The darling! She is seven years old now, Mr. Gordon; but I think that in those seven years enough has happened to me to make me feel three times seven years old." "Go ahead, Ida," said the gentleman cheerfully. "Tell it in your own way."
One of the most foolish mistakes which I see in educational methods is to give the children lessons in modern history without any reference to ancient history which comes to them in higher grades. Ancient history should be gone into first. Suppose, Ida, you begin with ancient history." "Before Ida Bellethorne was born, do you mean?" asked the English girl doubtfully.
The mare, snorting and fearful, scrambled back, swerved, and tried to escape from the ravine; but Betty had her under good control now. She had no spurs, but she yanked savagely at the bit and wheeled Ida Bellethorne again to face the sputtering electric flames that barred the road. Only a third of the way to the doctor's and the way made impassable! What should she do?
"Twelve dollars thank you, Miss. Can I show you anything else?" "Wait!" gasped Betty. "I want to ask you I wanted to ask Ida Bellethorne if she saw me drop anything here in the store yesterday?" "I am sorry she is not here to answer that question," said Mrs. Staples. "I was not here when you came, Miss." "No, I know you weren't.
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