came in with the tears in her eyes. She took the baby from him, gave him

a kiss, and told him to run to his father.

By the time Diamond got into the yard, the horse was between the shafts,

and his father was looping the traces on. Diamond went round to look at

the horse. The sight of him made him feel very queer. He did not know

much about different horses, and all other horses than their own were

very much the same to him. But he could not make it out. This was

Diamond and it wasn't Diamond. Diamond didn't hang his head like that;

yet the head that was hanging was very like the one that Diamond used

to hold so high. Diamond's bones didn't show through his skin like that;

but the skin they pushed out of shape so was very like Diamond's skin;

and the bones might be Diamond's bones, for he had never seen the shape

of them. But when he came round in front of the old horse, and he put

out his long neck, and began sniffing at him and rubbing his upper lip

and his nose on him, then Diamond saw it could be no other than old

Diamond, and he did just as his father had done before--put his arms

round his neck and cried--but not much.

“Ain't it jolly, father?” he said. “Was there ever anybody so lucky as

me? Dear old Diamond!”

And he hugged the horse again, and kissed both his big hairy cheeks. He

could only manage one at a time, however--the other cheek was so far off

on the other side of his big head.

His father mounted the box with just the same air, as Diamond thought,

with which he had used to get upon the coach-box, and Diamond said

to himself, “Father's as grand as ever anyhow.” He had kept his brown

livery-coat, only his wife had taken the silver buttons off and put

brass ones instead, because they did not think it polite to Mr. Coleman

in his fallen fortunes to let his crest be seen upon the box of a cab.

Old Diamond had kept just his collar; and that had the silver crest upon

it still, for his master thought nobody would notice that, and so let it

remain for a memorial of the better days of which it reminded him--not

unpleasantly, seeing it had been by no fault either of his or of the old

horse's that they had come down in the world together.

“Oh, father, do let me drive a bit,” said Diamond, jumping up on the box

beside him.

His father changed places with him at once, putting the reins into his

hands. Diamond gathered them up eagerly.

“Don't pull at his mouth,” said his father, “just feel, at it gently

to let him know you're there and attending to him. That's what I call

talking to him through the reins.”

“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, any one 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 to-day. 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 to-day,” 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