As I passed in front of Dr. Bell he rolled his eyes at me horribly, and
rose upon his hind legs, almost upsetting the groom as he went up and
barely missing him with his fore feet as he brought them to earth again.
"What's the matter with him?" I asked, stopping.
"I guess he just feels good," said the Efficient Sister.
"Yassuh, tha 's all," said the groom cheerfully. "_He's_ aw' right.
Gentle ath a lamb."
As he made this statement, I took another step in the direction of the
horse, whereat he reared again.
"_Well_, now!" said the groom, patting Dr. Bell upon the neck. "Feelin'
pretty good 's mawnin', is you? There, there!"
Dr. Bell, however, paid little attention to his attendant, but gazed
steadily at me with an evil look.
"Does he always do like that?" I asked the Domestic Sister.
"I never saw him do it before," she said.
"Maybe he doesn't admire the cut of your riding breeches," suggested my
companion.
"Oh, no, suh," protested the groom. "It 's jes' his li'l way tryin' t'
tell you he likes de ladies t' ride him better 'n he likes de gemmen."
"He means he doesn't want me to ride him?"
"Yassuh, da 's jes' his li'l idee 't he 's got _now_. He be all right
once you in de saddle."
"But how am I to get in the saddle if he keeps doing that?"
"I hold 'im all right," said the groom.
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