But of course I forgot all about driving slow on accounts of being glad and full of thinking; so I got home a heap too quick for that length of a trip. The old gentleman was at the door, and he says:

“Why, this is wonderful! Whoever would ’a’ thought it was in that mare to do it? I wish we’d ’a’ timed her. And she hain’t sweated a hair — not a hair. It’s wonderful. Why, I wouldn’t take a hundred dollars for that horse now — I wouldn’t, honest; and yet I’d ’a’ sold her for fifteen before, and thought ’twas all she was worth.”

That’s all he said. He was the innocentest, best old soul I ever see. But it warn’t surprising; because he