"Dead!" said Mr Lavender in an awed whisper."This is horrible! What a thin horse--nothing but bones!" And his gaze haunted the ridge and furrow of the horse's carcase, while the living horse looked round and down at its dead fellow, from whose hollow face a ragged forelock drooped in the dust.
"I must go and apologize to that old man," said Mr.Lavender aloud, "for no doubt he is even more distressed than I am.""Not 'e, guv'nor," said a voice, and looking beside him he saw the aged driver standing beside him; "not 'e; for of all the crool jobs I ever 'ad--drivin' that 'orse these last three months 'as been the croolest.
There 'e lies and 'es aht of it; and that's where they'd all like to be.
Speed, done 'im in, savin' 'is country's 'time an' 'is country's oats;that done 'im in.A good old 'orse, a willin' old 'orse, 'as broke 'is 'eart tryin' to do 'is bit on 'alf rations.There 'e lies; and I'm glad 'e does." And with the back of his hand the old fellow removed some brown moisture which was trembling on his jaw.Mr.Lavender rose from his knees.
"Dreadful!--monstrous!" he cried; "poor horse! Who is responsible for this?""Why," said the old driver, "the gents as sees it steady and sees it 'ole from one side o' the van, same as you.
So smitten to the heart was Mr.Lavender by those words that he covered his ears with his hands and almost ran from the scene, nor did he stop till he had reached the shelter of his study, and was sitting in his arm-chair with Blink upon his feet."I will buy a go-cart," he thought Blink and I will pull our weight and save the poor horses.We can at least deliver our own milk and vegetables."He had not been sitting there for half-an-hour revolving the painful complexities of national life before the voice of Mrs.Petty recalled him from that sad reverie.