“Yes, father, I understand,” said Diamond. Then to the horse he said, “Go on Diamond.” And old Diamond’s ponderous bulk began at once to move to the voice of the little boy.
But before they had reached the entrance of the mews, another voice called after young Diamond, which, in his turn, he had to obey, for it was that of his mother. “Diamond! Diamond!” it cried; and Diamond pulled the reins, and the horse stood still as a stone.
“Husband,” said his mother, coming up, “you’re never going to trust him with the reins—a baby like that?”
“He must learn some day, and he can’t begin too soon. I see already he’s a born coachman,” said his father proudly. “And I don’t see well how he could escape it, for my father and my grandfather, that’s his great-grandfather, was all coachmen, I’m told; so it must come natural to him, anyone would think. Besides, you see, old Diamond’s as proud of him as we are our own selves, wife. Don’t you see how he’s turning round his ears, with the mouths of them open, for the first word he speaks to tumble in? He’s too well bred to turn his head, you know.”
“Well, but, husband, I can’t do without him today. Everything’s got to be done, you know. It’s my first day here. And there’s that baby!”
“Bless you, wife! I never meant to take him away—only to the bottom of Endell Street. He can watch his way back.”
“No thank you, father; not today,” said Diamond. “Mother wants me. Perhaps she’ll let me go another day.”
“Very well, my man,” said his father, and took the reins which Diamond was holding out to him.
Diamond got down, a little disappointed of course, and went with his mother, who was too pleased to speak. She only took hold of his hand as tight as if she had been afraid of his running away instead of glad that he would not leave her.
Now, although they did not know it, the owner of the stables, the same man who had sold the horse to his father, had been standing just inside one of the stable-doors, with his hands in his pockets, and had heard and seen all that passed; and from that day John Stonecrop took a great fancy to the little boy. And this was the beginning of what came of it.
The same evening, just as Diamond was feeling tired of the day’s work, and wishing his father would come home, Mr. Stonecrop knocked at the door. His mother went and opened it.
“Good evening, ma’am,” said he. “Is the little master in?”
“Yes, to be sure he is—at your service, I’m sure, Mr. Stonecrop,” said his mother.
“No, no, ma’am; it’s I’m at his service. I’m just a-going out with my own cab, and if he likes to come with me, he shall drive my old horse till he’s tired.”
“It’s getting rather late for him,” said his mother thoughtfully. “You see he’s been an invalid.”
Diamond thought, what a funny thing! How could he have been an invalid when he did not even know what the word meant? But, of course, his mother was right.
“Oh, well,” said Mr. Stonecrop, “I can just let him drive through Bloomsbury Square, and then he shall run home again.”
“Very good, sir. And I’m much obliged to you,” said his mother. And Diamond, dancing with delight, got his cap, put his hand in Mr. Stonecrop’s, and went with him to the yard where the cab was waiting. He did not think the horse looked nearly so nice as Diamond, nor Mr. Stonecrop nearly so grand as his father; but he was none the less pleased. He got up on the box, and his new friend got up beside him.
“What’s the horse’s name?” whispered Diamond, as he took the reins from the man.
“It’s not a nice name,” said Mr. Stonecrop. “You needn’t call him by it. I didn’t give it him. He’ll go well enough without it. Give the boy a whip, Jack. I never carries one when I drive old—”
He didn’t finish the sentence. Jack handed Diamond a whip, with which, by holding it half down the stick, he managed just to flack the haunches of the horse; and away he went.
“Mind the gate,” said Mr. Stonecrop; and Diamond did mind the gate, and guided the nameless horse through it in safety, pulling him this way and that according as was necessary. Diamond learned to drive all the sooner that he had been accustomed to do what he was told, and could obey the smallest hint in a moment. Nothing helps one to get on like that. Some people don’t know how to do what they are told; they have not been used to it, and they neither understand quickly nor are able to turn what they do understand into action quickly. With an obedient mind one learns the rights of things fast enough; for it is the law of the universe, and to obey is to understand.
“Look out!” cried Mr. Stonecrop, as they were turning the corner into Bloomsbury Square.
It was getting dusky now. A cab was approaching rather rapidly from the opposite direction, and Diamond pulling aside, and the other driver pulling up, they only just escaped a collision. Then they knew each other.
“Why, Diamond, it’s a bad beginning to run into your own father,” cried the driver.
“But, father, wouldn’t it have been a bad ending to run into your own son?” said Diamond in return; and the two men laughed heartily.
“This is very kind of you, I’m sure, Stonecrop,” said his father.
“Not a bit. He’s a brave fellow, and’ll be fit to drive on his own hook in a week or two. But I think you’d better let him drive you home now, for his mother don’t like his having over much of the night air, and I promised not to take him farther than the square.”
“Come along then, Diamond,” said his father,
