CHAPTER II.
NED WEBB'S OUTING.
"Your grandmother is right, Edward. I agree with her entirely. Shethinks that too much of your vacation time ought not to be spent in thewoods, and it must not be. I wish, however, to say something more. Youreducation must continue without too great an interruption. There areideas which I intend you to obtain while under my care."
"Why, grandfather!" exclaimed Ned, with a somewhat puzzled look on hisface. "I think so, too. I don't care to be all the while in the woods.I want to do some fishing."
"Exactly," said his grandfather. "We both approve of that. You may haveall the rods and lines you need, but you must not forget the wisesaying of the immortal Franklin, that going fishing means only a rodand line with a worm at each end of it. There is not much to be caughtin Green Lake."
"Well," said Ned, "I guess I'll pull in something better'n suckers andbullheads. There are trout and perch and bass and pickerel."
"Eels, too," suggested his grandfather. "What I mean is, practically,that you are to employ a part of each day among your books. Iespecially wish you to acquire a rudimentary acquaintance with thehistory of the world you live in."
"Yes, sir, I know what that is," said Ned. "They bored us with it,awfully, at School Number Sixty-eight. I had to be examined on it, too,and I didn't get turned down."
Ned had safely reached his grandfather's house in the country. It was alarge and handsome mansion. They two were now in the library, on themorning after his arrival. One glance at the ranges of bookcases wasenough to afford an indication of the old gentleman's hobby. He was adistinguished member of the Historical Society; of the AntediluvianResearch Association; of the Paleontological; the Paleozoic, and ofseveral other brilliant scientific corporations. He was a short, stockyold man, and very positive in his manners. Possibly he might now haveresponded even severely, but at this moment a tall, thin, gray-haired,benevolent-looking woman entered the library.
"Edward," she said, brushing a lot of dust from her dress, "I've beengoing over that fishing-tackle for you. You may pick out all you wantof it, if you'll only let the guns alone. I can't let you play withgunpowder. Your grandfather mustn't make a bookworm of you, either."
"Oh," said Ned, "I was thinking of that. Worms! I guess I know where todig 'em. What I'm going to go for, this morning, is the horses."
"That's what you may do," said his grandfather, somewhat as if he hadbeen getting orders from his wife. "You'd better fight shy of thatsorrel filly, though. She might pitch you over her head."
"Why, Edward," interposed his grandmother, "you rode that colt a goodmany times, last vacation. She's better broken in now. I've driven her,myself. She's as kind and gentle as a kitten, but she's playful."
"Humph!" remarked the old gentleman. "She kicked one buggy into themiddle of next week. I won't drive her."
There was more to be said, but Ned escaped with his grandmother to goand take a look at the fishing-tackle. It was in a closet of one of theup-stairs rooms, and it was worth any boy's while to have the rummagingof that closet.
"It's a perfect curiosity shop," said Ned, as he stared into it. "Why,grandmother, he must have been a tremendous fisherman."
"So he was," she said, "when he was a younger man. That isn't all ofit, though. This is his collection of all the implements employed bycivilised and uncivilised tribes for catching fish. It isn't sortedvery well, but that other side is packed with nets and spears. I'mafraid there isn't a really good boat for you on Green Lake. Clumsythings!"
"Anything'll do for me," said Ned. "I'm a sailor. Do you know, theother day, I went to see the _Kentucky_, the new line-o'-battle-ship.She's a giant."
"Oh, dear!" laughed the old lady. "If your grandfather could buy her atauction, he'd stow her away in this closet, for one of his specimens."
"I can see all I want," replied Ned. "I'll come and pick it out by andby. May I go to the barns now?"
"Go right along," she said. "Hadn't you better take a ride to GreenLake? It's only a mile or so, and horseback exercise'll do you good."
She kept him a few minutes, however, to explain the nature of some ofthe more remarkable antiquities in the closet. Then he was down-stairsagain, but he was not a free boy yet, for his grandfather caught himand led him into the library again.
"Edward," he said, solemnly, as they passed the doorway, "if thereis anything I disapprove of, more than another, it is what they areprinting nowadays to occupy the empty minds of the young,--the thingswhich they advertise as popular books for boys, for instance. I findthat even where they are more or less historical in character, they arealso perniciously imaginative, often presenting utter improbabilitiesas history. I will show you something, now, that will be worth yourwhile. I suppose that you do not know anything of consequenceconcerning your Scandinavian forefathers."
"Yes, I do," said Ned. "Our old Erica's a Norway girl. I can talk withher in Norwegian."
"What!" exclaimed his grandfather. "Have you actually acquired thedifficult tongue of the Vikings and Berserkers? That is wonderful! Thenyou will be doubly interested in the work you are about to peruse."
"I guess I can swallow it," said Ned. "Are you going to give me a lookat it?"
The old gentleman walked over to a corner of the library and pulled outfrom one of the lower shelves an exceedingly promising or portentousvolume. He was a strong man, and he lifted it to the centre-table,throwing it wide open as he did so, and remarking:
"There, now! That's a book for a boy!"
Ned drew a long breath, in spite of some dust that flew from the book,as he came to the table.
"Examine it," said his grandfather.
Ned turned first to the title-page, of course, to see what it was.
HISTORY OF THE NORMANS.
By
PROFESSOR SCHWEINFURTH BFJORNNSSEN.
Translated by
BARON FRITZ VON PLOKINWICZ.
475 Illustrations.
Published by
DRONTHEIM & WESTMINSTER.
Boston and Copenhagen.
1900.
A pencilled memorandum added:
5,000 pp. $50.
"This is just the thing!" exclaimed Ned. "I can look at every picturein it while I'm here. I guess not many of 'em are photos, though. Theyare splendid!"
"'THERE ISN'T ANY SCHOOL-BOOK ABOUT THIS.'"]
"They are works of art, all of 'em," said his grandfather. "I believethem to be sufficiently accurate, and that you may depend upon theirinstructive value."
"I see," said Ned. "All about ever so many fights. I'll go right intoit. Tell you what, grandfather, there isn't any school-book about this."
The old gentleman was evidently gratified by the eagerness with whichNed began to turn over the leaves, and he remarked, benevolently:
"It will give you a thorough knowledge of men and times whereof we haveas yet discovered very little. The Vikings were a wonderful race ofmen."
"They'd fight like anything," said Ned. "Pirates, buccaneers,freebooters,--I'd like to see one of their battles. They blew horns allthe while. Yelled. Sung songs. Yes, sir! It's the biggest kind of book."
"Go, now," said his grandfather, still more delighted with Ned'senthusiasm. "You may try the sorrel colt, but be careful."
The barns and stables of the Webb place were at some distance in therear of the mansion. At the right of the largest barn was a four-acrepaddock, but it did not seem to have many occupants. At this hourof the day all work-horses were away at their farm duties. Thecarriage-horses were in their stalls, waiting for orders. All that Nedsaw, therefore, on his arrival, were a brace of very young colts, fourDevon calves, as handsome as pictures, and one three-year-old sorrelfilly. She was in the hands of a groom, and instead of a halter shewas wearing a bridle, with a plain snaffle-bit. Just at this momentthe groom was putting upon her back a pretty blue blanket with whiteborders. She was a large animal for her age, and Ned was already awarethat she had earned a reput
ation as a racer.
"There's speed in her!" he remarked. "She'll show time, one of thesedays. Temper? Well, I don't care if there is. Good horses always havesome."
Nanny's beautiful eyes looked gentle enough, and they were full ofintelligence. She neighed inquiringly as he drew nearer.
"Hullo! How are ye, Masther Ned? Hark to the mare, now. She's askin'the name of ye. Come along, and spake to her."
"How are you, Pat McCarty?" called back Ned. "Nanny's looking fine!Grandfather says I may ride her."
"All right," said Pat. "She's ready. I was goin' to exercise her,meself."
A dozen more questions and answers followed rapidly, while Ned wascaressing and admiring the perfectly shaped quadruped. She turned herpretty head to look at him, as he walked around her, and he was awareof a curious notion that she was now and then winking at him. Sheseemed, at the same time, a little impatient and restless, as if itirritated her to have to stand still.
"You'll do as well without a saddle," said Pat. "Sometimes she objectsto a saddle. The blanket and surcingle is all the summer goods shewants to wear."
"Guess they're enough," laughed Ned.
He was getting wildly eager for his romp with Nanny. Whether or not sheremembered him, she seemed to be disposed to treat him politely. Sheeven craned out her neck and pulled off his hat for him, taking thebrim in her teeth.
"She's friendly, the day," said Pat. "Put your fut in me hand and I'llgive ye the lift to the back of her."
Ned was as nimble as a monkey. In a moment more he was on Nanny's back,bridle in hand, feeling splendidly.
"Aff wid ye," said Pat. "I'll open the gate for ye. Ave she wants togo, though, it's little good to thry an' hould her in."
"I won't," said Ned. "I'll just let her fly!"
He was thrilling all over with the excitement of being so well mounted,and he really knew how to ride. As for Nanny, she appeared to be seton springs, and her progress to the gate was a series of gracefulcurvetings, as easy for her rider as the motion of a rocking-chair.
They were now in the barnyard, and a lane from this led out into theroad. Pat was no longer needed, for the yard gate was open, and Nannypranced along through without any guiding.
"Luk at her!" shouted Pat. "She's out for fun the day. She's full o'life. Oh! but isn't she a beauty!"
"Whoop!" yelled Ned. "This is better than being shut up in a grammarschool."
"It's the fine b'ye he is, ave they don't spile him entirely, amongthim," remarked Pat, thoughtfully. "The ould grandmother'd give himthe house and all, and the grandfather's been just a-waitin' for himtill he kem. They're the right sort o' people, thim Webbs."
The highway was clear and Nanny went into it at her own gait, a kind ofspringing, elastic canter that was not at first very rapid.
"This is the road toward Green Lake," thought Ned. "It's just the oneI meant to take. I'll get there, to-morrow or next day, and see ifthere's any fishing. Sometimes they didn't bite worth a cent, lastyear. I'll find a boat, somehow. I can take a book along, too. Then Iwon't have to sit still for an hour at a time, doing nothing."
Men and women in wagons and carriages, which he shortly met or passed,all turned for a look at Nanny, and it was quite apparent that sheappreciated their admiration. Two or three times, indeed, she inducedNed to make a mild, restraining pull upon the bridle, but each time sheresented his attempt at control by a shake of her head, followed by avigorous bound forward.
"I'd better take Pat's advice," he thought. "If she wants to speed it,I'll let her go. I can stick on, anyhow."
He had no doubt whatever on that point, and was not at all nervous.At the end of less than three-quarters of a mile, however, there wasa narrow lane that left the highway on the right, though not at rightangles. This lane was bordered by rail fences, trees, bushes, andfarther on it led through a patch of dense forest.
"Green Lake Lane," thought Ned. "I won't go there to-day."
On that point he should have first consulted the sorrel colt underhim. The instant she came to the head of the lane she uttered a sharpexclamation and whirled gaily into it. Ned at once drew upon his bridlein an attempt to guide her back into the highway. Up went her heels alittle viciously, and her easy gallop changed into something like arun. If she had now only a quarter-mile to go, she was determined tomake short work of whatever errand was in her mind.
"She's going like lightning!" exclaimed Ned, clinging his best andpulling hard.
"This lane runs right on into the lake. Oh, my!"
Faster, faster, went the beautiful thoroughbred racer. The trees at theroadside seemed to go flashing by, and now the lake itself was in fullview ahead.
It was a broad, placid, forest-bordered sheet of water, apparentlysomewhat irregular in shape. There were neither wharves nor piers norboathouses to be seen.
The entire lake landscape was wildly picturesque,--if Ned could at thatmoment have considered at all any of the beauties of nature. He couldnot have done so, for it seemed to him that Nanny was not even givinghim time to think. Long afterward, he remembered asking himself if itwere possible that Nanny had any idea of going for a swim.
"NED DID NOT SIT STILL AT ALL."]
She had no such intentions, indeed. She had other plans and purposes,and she carried out her own conception of a grand morning romp with Nedto perfection.
The moderate slope to the water's edge was green with grass, and thelittle waves came rippling in smilingly. The water there was not veryshallow, however.
On--on--sprang swiftly the sorrel colt, and it was plain that only thelake itself could stop her.
That is, the bridle and bit were of no account, but she could stopherself. Her round yellow fore hoofs came down side by side at themargin, and the water was only a few inches above her silken fetlockswhen she suddenly, sharply braced herself as still as if she had beeninstantaneously cast in bronze for exhibition.
Ned did not sit still at all. He was cast clean over the gracefullybowing head of the playful Nanny, right into Green Lake, as far as shecould throw him.
Beyond all doubt, she had accomplished her purposes remarkably well.
There was no actual harm done to her rider, either, for the water inwhich Ned landed, if a boy can correctly be said to land in water, wasfully four feet deep. He went into it head first, heels up, hat flying,with a kind of astonished yell in his throat that was drowned before itcould get away from him.
When he came to the surface again and struck out for the shore,recapturing his floating hat on the way, there stood Nanny entirelycalm and as gentle as ever.
Now again he could almost have believed that she was winking at him.She neighed very kindly, drank some lake water, and then she lifted herhead and gazed around the lake as if she enjoyed the scenery.
"I can mount her again," asserted Ned, as he stood still to drip. "Oh,but ain't I glad I lighted on something soft! It wasn't a fair throw,anyhow. I hadn't anything left to hold on with."
Whatever he meant by that, she had slung him over her head, and therewas very little doubt but what she could do it again. She had a will ofher own, too, as to being ridden, and she as much as said so when hewent to get hold of her bridle, intending to lead her to a neighbouringlog and remount. He did not succeed in putting a hand on the leather.Up went her heels, around she whirled, and away she went, neighingcheerfully as she galloped along the lane.
"Now, this is too bad!" groaned Ned. "I'm as wet as a drowned rat andI've got to foot it home. Nanny'll get there before I do, too, unlessshe runs away somewhere else, and they'll all wonder what's become ofme."
He felt humiliated, discouraged, and not at all like the kind offellow to command ironclads and lead armies.
There was nothing else to be done, nevertheless, and he began to trudgedolefully along on his homeward way. Walking in wet clothing is notvery comfortable exercise, anyhow, and Ned was not now, by any means,the nobby-looking young man from the city that he had been when he rodeaway that morning. Even more than before, when he
was so well mounted,did curious people turn in their carriages and wagons to stare at him.It was on his mind that every one of them had a good laugh and remarked:
"That chap's had a ducking!"
He plodded along, and succeeded in getting half-way before anythingserious occurred. Then, indeed, he suddenly stood stock-still, andwished he had been farther.
"There they come!" he exclaimed. "There are grandfather and grandmotherand Pat and old Mrs. Emmons and Uncle Jack. More people behind 'em.Oh, dear! They've seen me already, or I'd climb a fence."
It was altogether too late for any attempt at escape. In a few momentsmore they were in front of him, and all around him, saying all sortsof things so rapidly that he had to keep shut up till they gave him achance.
"Oh, my blessed boy!" exclaimed Grandmother Webb. "If you wasn't sowet, I'd hug you! We thought the colt had thrown you; we were afraidyou were killed!"
"No!" said Ned, with energy. "But she fired me over her head into thelake, and I swam ashore."
"I caught her," put in Pat McCarty. "Here she is,--the beauty! That wasfor thryin' to hould her in. You must niver do that ag'in."
"I didn't pull much," said Ned.
Uncle Jack had been looking him all over, critically, from head tofoot.
"That lake is very wet," he remarked. "Ned, my boy, I'm glad thecritter projected you into soft water. You've come out of it afine-looking bird."
"I don't care," said Ned. "This blue flannel doesn't shrink withwetting. My hat'll be all right as soon as it's dry; so'll my shoes."
At that moment he heard a shrill, soft neigh close to his ear, andNanny poked her head over his shoulder to gaze affectionately at thefamily gathering, as if she felt that she was entitled to some of thecredit of the occasion.
"It's the fun of her," said Pat. "It's just the joke she played on theb'ye. She knows more'n half the min."
"Edward," commanded his grandfather, "come right back to the house."
"He can't ketch cold sech a day as this," said old Mrs. Emmons, "or I'dmake him some pepper tea; but his mother mustn't hear of it. How itwould skeer her!"
"No, it wouldn't," said Ned. "She knows I can swim. Father won't care,either, so long's I got ashore."
The procession set out for the house, Pat and Nanny marching ahead.It grew, too, as it went, for ever so many of the village boys camehurrying to join it, and to inquire how it was that Nanny made out tothrow Ned into Green Lake. Then they all went forward to walk alongwith her, full of admiration for a colt that knew how to give a boy aducking.
"She slung him," said one.
"Hove him clean over her head."
"She was goin' a mile a minute."
"If I'd ha' been Ned, I'd ha' braced back and stuck on."
"Then she'd ha' rolled over."
Not one of them offered to ride her, however; and the processionreached the house. When it did so, Nanny broke away from Pat, andcantered on to the barn-yard. The gate from that into the paddock wasshut, and she went over it with a splendid leap, to begin a kind ofdance around the Devon calves.
"It's mighty little good to fence in the like of her," remarked Pat."I'm thinkin' I'd better give the b'ye wan o' thim other cowlts."
Ned, the son of Webb: What he did. Page 2