Nina Coombs Pykare Read Online Free PDF

“Mortimer! Come out from under that pony’s stomach,” cried Jennifer, forgetting for a moment that a governess should always remain calm. “Or we will not go for any ride - today or ever.”
      Mortimer moved out from under the pony’s stomach with obvious reluctance. “The pony won’t hurt me,” he said with a wrinkle of his freckled nose. “I’ve been around horses all my life.”
    “That may be quite true,” replied Jennifer, having regained her equanimity. “But the pony has not been around boys all its life.”
    This logic seemed to make some impression on Mortimer; at least he did not return to his position under the pony.
    “She’s a gentle ‘un, she is, Miss,” said one of the grooms as Jennifer saw the girls helped into the back seat of the cart. “But she don’t like the whip none.” He nodded toward that instrument which waved gracefully in its socket.
    “I don’t think it necessary to whip a horse,” said Jennifer. “A good animal will always respond to good treatment.”
    “Right you are, Miss.” The groom smiled. “Master said as you’d be riding the little mare, too. Her name is Ladyfingers. A neat little mare. This pony be called Red Rust.”
    “Thank you,” said Jennifer, accepting his help to mount into the cart. “I expect we shall be gone for several hours. It looks like a lovely day.”
    “It do indeed, Miss. A nice ride to you.”
      Jennifer, gathering up the reins with a steady hand that did not at all reflect the unsteady condition of her nerves, gave him a smile. Then she lifted the reins and the pony ambled off.
    As she guided the pony down the lane Jennifer began to feel a little more relaxed. Red Rust seemed quite willing to respond to her handling of the reins. The spring sky was a brilliant blue laced only occasionally with a white fluffy cloud. Here and there bright clumps of daffodils nodded in the breeze. She sniffed their delightful fra-grance.
    Jennifer was very much aware of a desire to throw off her bonnet and feel the warm breeze in her hair. But, being mindful of her charges, she resisted the temptation.
    When consulted in the matter of their education, the girls’ mother had waved her scent-filled, lace-edged handkerchief in a languid hand and declared, “I know nothing of these matters. That is why we sent for you. Just turn them out to be suitable brides for young lords and I shall be satisfied.”
    But, when she discovered that her darlings were to be outdoors, in what she called the “vicious sunlight” she insisted that their arms and hands be protected by gloves and their bonnets worn at all times.
      Since this was the only restriction Mrs. Parthemer had put upon their education, Jennifer felt it politic to accede to her wishes. Bonnets and gloves were a small price to pay for the freedom and health that being outdoors could give them.
    As the pony continued to amble peacefully along, the girls in the back seat began to chatter happily. “We’ve never been this far from home,” said Cassie with enthusiasm.
    “Oh, Miss Jennifer,” cried little Cammie. “It’s so nice since you came. We never did things like this before.”
    “We’ll do lots of things now, Cammie. But we will do lessons too.” Jennifer smiled. “Don’t jostle around on the seat too much, girls. We don’t want to make the pony
    nervous.”
    “Yes, Miss Jennifer,” came the voices from behind her.
    “This summer,” continued Jennifer, “we will ask cook to pack a lunch for us and we will eat it on the seashore.”
    “Oh! Oh!” came a chorus of muted delight from behind her.
    During the whole of the ride Mortimer had been silent. Several times he had leaned rather precariously over the edge of the cart, but Jennifer, wise in the ways of small boys, pretended not to notice. Excessive coddling would be much more damaging to Mortimer than a few tumbles.
    They reached a stretch of road that ran between an open meadow on one side and a small coppice on the