Part III
Chapter 37: The Golden Rule
(continued)
"Tut, tut! we'll see about that. It was not the money I was thinking about,
but of losing our Sunday; the horses are tired, and I am tired, too --
that's where it pinches."
"It pinches all round, for that matter," said Polly, "for it's only
half Sunday without you, but you know we should do to other people
as we should like they should do to us; and I know very well
what I should like if my mother was dying; and Jerry, dear,
I am sure it won't break the Sabbath; for if pulling a poor beast or donkey
out of a pit would not spoil it, I am quite sure taking poor Dinah
would not do it."
"Why, Polly, you are as good as the minister, and so, as I've had
my Sunday-morning sermon early to-day, you may go and tell Dinah
that I'll be ready for her as the clock strikes ten; but stop --
just step round to butcher Braydon's with my compliments,
and ask him if he would lend me his light trap; I know he never uses it
on the Sunday, and it would make a wonderful difference to the horse."
Away she went, and soon returned, saying that he could have the trap
and welcome.
"All right," said he; "now put me up a bit of bread and cheese,
and I'll be back in the afternoon as soon as I can."
"And I'll have the meat pie ready for an early tea instead of for dinner,"
said Polly; and away she went, while he made his preparations to the tune of
"Polly's the woman and no mistake", of which tune he was very fond.
I was selected for the journey, and at ten o'clock we started,
in a light, high-wheeled gig, which ran so easily
that after the four-wheeled cab it seemed like nothing.
It was a fine May day, and as soon as we were out of the town, the sweet air,
the smell of the fresh grass, and the soft country roads were as pleasant
as they used to be in the old times, and I soon began to feel quite fresh.
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