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But sitting up straight and being led at a walk were not altogether and completely satisfactory. After a few minutes, Fauntleroy spoke to his grandfather watching him from the window: "Can't I go by myself?" he asked; "and can't I go faster? The boy on Fifth Avenue used to trot and canter!" "Do you think you could trot and canter?" said the Earl. "I should like to try," answered Fauntleroy.
He hated the long nights and days, and he grew more and more savage and irritable. And then Fauntleroy came; and when the Earl saw him, fortunately for the little fellow, the secret pride of the grandfather was gratified at the outset.
You see you will not be really separated from your son, and I assure you, madam, the terms are not so harsh as as they might have been. The advantage of such surroundings and education as Lord Fauntleroy will have, I am sure you must see, will be very great." He felt a little uneasy lest she should begin to cry or make a scene, as he knew some women would have done.
He evinced a strong preference for the society of "Joan of Arc," while "Sarah Crewe," "Little Lord Fauntleroy," and "Rebecca of Sunnybrook" traveled about together, a seemingly contented trio.
"We will order the carriage." Then he added dryly, "It's a pony." Fauntleroy drew a long breath. "A pony!" he exclaimed. "Whose pony is it?" "Yours," replied the Earl. "Mine?" cried the little fellow. "Mine like the things upstairs?" "Yes," said his grandfather. "Would you like to see it? Shall I order it to be brought around?" Fauntleroy's cheeks grew redder and redder.
Downy's white outer tail-feathers are barred with black; the Hairy's are all white. Downy is sparrow-size; Hairy is robin-size. Downy is usually a gentle creature; Hairy is aggressive and militant. Downy is a little Lord Fauntleroy; Hairy is a Robin Hood. One other woodpecker was seen on this lucky bird-day. It was the red-bellied woodpecker, more rare and more shy than either of the others.
It was not a very small pony, and he had often seen children lose courage in making their first essay at riding. Fauntleroy mounted in great delight. He had never been on a pony before, and he was in the highest spirits. Wilkins, the groom, led the animal by the bridle up and down before the library window. "He's a well plucked un, he is," Wilkins remarked in the stable afterward with many grins.
When the cottages were being built, the lad and his grandfather used to ride over to Earl's Court together to look at them, and Fauntleroy was full of interest. He would dismount from his pony and go and make acquaintance with the workmen, asking them questions about building and bricklaying, and telling them things about America.
Ten minutes later, when she had extracted his promise and abandoned him to the costumers, he was scourging his weakness. He had known better! Very well, then, let him take his medicine. Let him go as here he disgustedly eyed the garment that the Greek was presenting as Little Lord Fauntleroy! He deserved it.
He skulked in corners, and crept about in a sort of noonday twilight, making himself gray and misty, at all hours, with his morbid intolerance of sunshine. In his torpid despair, however, he had done an act which that condition of the spirit seems to prompt almost as often as prosperity and hope. Fauntleroy was again married.
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