Day by day, hole by hole, our bearing reins were shortened, and instead of looking forward with pleasure to having my harness put on, as I used to do, I began to dread it. Ginger, too, seemed restless, though she said very little. At last I thought the worst was over; for several days there was no more shortening, and I determined to make the best of it and do my duty, though it was now a constant harass instead of a pleasure; but the worst was not come.
A Strike for Liberty
One day my lady came down later than usual, and the silk rustled more than ever.
“Drive to the Duchess of B⸺’s,” she said, and then after a pause, “Are you never going to get those horses’ heads up, York? Raise them at once and let us have no more of this humoring and nonsense.”