[Gutenberg 58434] • Minkie

an excerpt from the beginning of: CHAPTER I HOW A BOGEY-MAN CAME TO DALE END Told by Bobby, the Horse MINKIE says I ought to begin this story, because I am the biggest and strongest. I don't see that at all, but she thinks I can't see much, anyhow, owing to my silly habit of wearing blinkers, which is just her irritating way of settling an argument — as if I made the harness. And she knows better, too. I have an eye stuck on each side of my head to enable me to look nearly all round the circle; but that clever individual, man, tries to improve on Providence by making me don the rogue's badge. Well, it would make any horse laugh. You watch how the clever individual came to grief when Minkie and her gang tackled him. Yes, that is what they call us — her "gang" — although Dandy, the fox-terrier, won't admit that Tibbie belongs to our crowd, and he gets furious if one even mentions the Parrot. Perhaps he is prejudiced against Tibbie — I have noticed that most dogs seldom have a good word for a cat — but I do agree with him about that green idiot, Polly. Of all the back-biting, screeching — Eh, what? Oh, don't worry, as I tell Dan when he trots in to my place to look for a rat — you'll be in the middle of a real up-to-date yarn in two buzzes of a gad-fly. . . . The fun started last Christmas Eve, when a small blue boy on a big red bicycle came to our front door and tried to pull the bell out by the roots after playing tricks with the knocker. Everybody thought it was a parcel for herself. Dorothy sailed out of the drawing-room; Cookie and Evangeline, our housemaid (Mam wanted to call her Mary, but she threatened to give notice), rushed from the kitchen; even dearest Mam dropped her sewing and wondered what the Guv'nor had sent her; but Minkie tobogganed downstairs on a tray, and came in an easy first. Dan was close up, as he simply hates every sort of postman; so Minkie grabbed him with one hand and opened the door with the other. And it was only a telegram. When Mam opened it, she said " Good gracious!" "What is it, mother?" inquired Dorothy. But Minkie had read it over Mam's shoulder and it was just this: "Schwartz arrived unexpectedly to-day. Have invited him to spend Christmas and New Year with us. Send victoria meet 2.15. Tom." Tom is the Old Man. His other name is Grosvenor. He isn't really old, but Jim calls him the Old Man, or the Guv'nor, and we are all pretty free and easy in the stable, you know. "Good gracious!" said Mam again, "he will be here in half an hour. Evangeline, run and tell James to drive to the station at once. Mr. Grosvenor is bringing a friend home with him." Now, it is to be observed, in the first place, that ladies are always flustered by telegrams. The Old Man said nothing about "bringing" Schwartz by the 2.15, and Mam knew quite well that he expected to be detained at the office until the 5.30. Next, when two-legged people are in a hurry, they put the rush on to their four-legged helpers. I was just enjoying a nice wisp of hay when Jim banged in and rattled me into my harness, while Mole, the gardener, who also cleans the knives and boots, pulled the victoria out of the shed.