Story-Tell Lib | Page 5

a long piece. I'll be there
pretty soon," says he. "Why," says Billy, "what a foolish fellow you be!
You've been in the same place all day, and ain't got on one mite. What
do you mean by there? Where is it you think you're goin', anyway?"
"Well, I don't 'zackly know," says Jack, "but I'm gittin' there real spry. I
'most see it one time to-day." He didn't mind Billy's laughin' at him,
and tryin' to keep him from bein' sat'sfied. He jest went on tryin' and
tryin' to get there, and hopin' and believin' he would after a spell. He
was always peart and comfortable, took his work real easy, relished his
victuals and drink, and slept first rate nights. But Billy he fretted and
scolded and kicked and bit, and that made him hot and tired, and got
him whipped, and hollered at, and pulled, and yanked. You see, he
hadn't got anything in his mind to chirk him up, for he didn't believe
anything good was comin', as Jack did; he 'most knowed it wasn't, but
Jack 'most knowed it was. And Jack took notice of things that Billy
never see at all. He see the trees a-growin', and heered the birds
a-singin', and Injun Brook a-gugglin' along over the stones, and he
watched the butterflies a-flyin', and sometimes a big yeller 'n black one
would light right on his back. Jack took notice of 'em all, and he'd say,
"I'm gettin' along now, certin sure, for there's birds and posies and flyin'
things here I never see back along. I guess I'm most there." "'There,
there!'" Billy'd say. "Where is it, anyway? I ain't never seen any o' them
posies and creaturs you talk about, and I'm right side of you on these
old boards the whole time."
And all the children round there liked Jack. They'd watch the two
horses workin', and they see Billy all cross and skittish, holdin' back
and shakin' his head and tryin' to kick, never takin' no notice o' them
nor anything. And, again, they see Jack steppin' along peart and spry,

pleasant and willin', turnin' his head when they come up to him, and
lookin' friendly at 'em out of his kind brown eyes, and they'd say, the
boys and girls would, "Good Jack! nice old Jack!" and they'd pat him,
and give him an apple, or a carrot, or suthin' good. But they didn't give
Billy any. They didn't like his ways, and they was 'most afraid he'd bite
their fingers. And Jack would say, come evenin', "It's gittin' nicer and
nicer we get further on the road,--ain't it? Folks is pleasanter speakin',
and the victuals 'pears better flavored, and things is comfortabler every
way, seems 's if, and I jedge by that we're 'most there." But Billy'd say,
a-grumblin' away, "It's worse'n worse,--young ones a-botherin' my life
out o' me, and the birds a-jabberin' and the posies a-smellin' till my
head aches. Oh, deary me! I'm 'most dead." So 't went on and kep' on.
Jack had every mite as hard work as Billy, but he didn't mind it, he was
so full o' what was comin' and how good 't would be to get there. And
'cause he was pleasant and willin' and worked so good, and 'cause he
took notice o' all the nice things round him, and see new ones every day,
he was treated real kind, and never got tired and used up and low in his
mind like Billy. Even the flies didn't pester him's they done Billy, for
he on'y said, when he felt 'em bitin' and crawlin', "Dog-days is come,"
says he, "for here's the flies worse and worse. So the summer's most
over, and I'll get there in a jiffy now."
"What am I stoppin' for," do you say, 'Miry? 'Cause that's all. You
needn't make sech a fuss, child'en. It's done, this story is, I tell ye.
Leastways I don't know any more on it. I told you all about them two
horses, and which had a good time and which didn't, and what 'twas
made the differ'nce 'twixt 'em. But you want to know whether Jack got
there. Well, I don't know no more 'n the horses did what there was, but
in my own mind I b'leeve he got it. Mebbe 't was jest dyin' peaceful and
quiet, and restin' after all that steppin' and climbin'. He'd a-liked that,
partic'lar when he knowed the folks was sorry to have him go, and
would allus rec'lect him. Mebbe 't was jest livin' on and on, int'rested
and enjoyin', and liked by folks, and then bein' took away from the hard
work and put out to pastur' for the rest o' his days. Mebbe 'twas--Oh! I
d'know. Might