road stood an iron-gray pony, with a new little saddle on his hack and a grinning negro boy holding the bridle. And when Neil ran down the steps, with a shout of wonder and delight, the pony turned his head with just a little whinny of friendliness, and on the bridle Neil saw a little white note addressed to himself.
“On the bridle Neil saw a little white note addressed to himself.”
It was a wonderful little note. For some reason unexplainable it brought to Neil’s eyes, even at that happy moment, the tears he had kept back through three hard months past; and it made Mrs. Morris laugh and cry at once, and even Neil’s father coughed and wiped his glasses that evening when he read it. And although it was a very brief note indeed, it seemed to have a singular power of producing such emotions, for this was all it said:
My dear Neil: A contract ‘s a contract, and should always be binding to the letter. You may think I ‘m a funny old fellow; but I hired you, and made the conditious as hard as I could, because I love grit in boys, and wanted to see yours come out. It came, and I am well repaid. But this pony is for the boy who can keep the spirit of his promise better than the letter of his contract, and for one who cares more to be “square” than for any other consideration.
Your very true friend,Ferris
P.S,—The pony’s name is “The Squire.” If you will look up this word in the dictionary you will discover that it has one meaning exactly the same as a favorite word of yours—and mine—which will tell you why I named him so, out of compliment to his new master.
