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Just you stick tight to the thwart." "The what?" feebly asked the other. "Oh, the seat, I mean. We can get to the shore all right if you steer the horse straight. Head him more across the pond." "I can't head him," cried Podington. "I have dropped the reins!" "Good gracious!" cried Mr. Buller, "that's bad. Can't you steer him by shouting 'Gee' and 'Haw'?"
"Yes," said Podington, "but it can't hurt us, for our road goes under the bridge; we are perfectly safe; there is no risk of accident." "But your horse! Your horse!" exclaimed Buller, as the train came nearer and nearer. "What will he do?" "Do?" said Podington; "he'll do what he is doing now; he doesn't mind trains."
As the bank at this spot sloped steeply, the wagon continued to go backward, despite the efforts of the agitated horse to find a footing on the crumbling edge of the bank. "Whoa!" cried Mr. Buller. "Get up!" exclaimed Mr. Podington, applying his whip upon the plunging beast. But exclamations and castigations had no effect upon the horse.
"Is this it?" said he, holding up a strip of wet leather. "Yes," said Podington, "you've got the reins." "Well, take them, and steer. I would have found them sooner if his tail had not got into my eyes. That long tail's floating down there and spreading itself out like a fan; it tangled itself all around my head. It would have been much easier if he had been a bob-tailed horse."
Podington gave a howl of horror, and the horse, with high, uplifted head, was obliged to swim. At this moment a boy with a gun came strolling along the road, and hearing Mr. Podington's cry, he cast his eyes over the water.
"Oh, you needn't get out," said he; "there's not the least danger in the world. But I don't want to make you nervous, and I will turn around and drive the other way." "But you can't!" screamed Buller. "This road is not wide enough, and that train is nearly here. Please stop!" The imputation that the road was not wide enough for him to turn was too much for Mr. Podington to bear.
Buller took off his hat and asked his friend to hold it. He thought of his watch and other contents of his pockets, but there was no place to put them, so he gave them no more consideration. Then bravely getting on his knees in the water, he leaned over the dashboard, almost disappearing from sight. With his disengaged hand Mr. Podington grasped the submerged coat-tails of his friend.
"Yes," said Mr. Podington. "How long did you say this canal is?" "About three miles," answered his friend. "Then we will go into the lock and in a few minutes we shall be on the lake." "So far as I am concerned," said Mr. Podington, "I wish the canal were twelve miles long. I cannot imagine anything pleasanter than this.
The boat was examined and found to be leaking, but not very badly, and when her mast had been unshipped and everything had been made tight and right on board, she was pulled out of the way of tow-lines and boats, and made fast until she could be sent for from the town. Mr. Buller and Mr. Podington walked back toward the town.
Consequently he could not bring himself to consent to go to Buller's house by the sea. To receive his good friend Buller at his own house in the beautiful upland region in which he lived would have been a great joy to Mr. Podington; but Buller could not be induced to visit him.
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