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So Sam, walking cheerily forward singing, under the light and shadow of the old forest, surrounded by his dogs, hears horses' feet behind him, and looking back sees his father riding and leading Bronsewing saddled. "Jump up, my boy," said the Major; "Cecil shall see what Bronsewing is like, and how well you can sit him.
I want that boy to ride as little as possible, but he has earned an exception in his favour to-day. Jerry!" Samuel's saddle on Bronsewing, and mine on Ricochette, and bring them round."
That's all very natural; but still I say, get your hat, Sam, and trot through the forest on your own two legs, and bring Cecil home to dinner." Sam still looked disappointed, though he tried not to show it. He went and got his hat, and, meeting the dogs, got such a wild welcome from them that he forgot all about Bronsewing.
"May I have Bronsewing, father? He is in the stable." "It is a nice cool day, and only four miles; why not walk out, my boy?" Sam looked disappointed, but said nothing. "I know all about it, my child," said the Major; "Cecil will be there on Blackboy, and you would like to show him that Bronsewing is the superior pony of the two.
It's a long fifty miles from Captain Brentwood's," said Mrs. Buckley after a time. "And that's a very good day's work for little Bronsewing, carrying your father." "And what has been the news since I have been away, eh, mother?" "Why, the greatest news is that the Donovans have sold their station, and are off to Port Phillip." "All the world is moving there," said Sam. "Who has he sold it to?"
Always talking about fighting a chap when he is out of the way, when you know you've no more fight in you than a bronsewing. Why, he'd kill you, if you only waited for him to hit you! And see here: if you don't stop your jaw about him, you'll have to fight me, and that's a little more than you're game for, I'm thinking."
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