Winkie, in truth, looked very handsome and roguish as he stood there, with his head bent doggedly, his shaggy mane blown about by the wind, and his bright eyes mischievously asking as plainly as they could:  “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Huh!  Handsome is that handsome does!” grumbled Jack.  “But I’ll teach him to behave himself.”

He raised the whip once more, but Leo caught his arm, crying,

“No, you must not whip him.  Father says a horse can be managed by kindness better than in any other way.”

“Oh, I must not!” repeated Jack, ironically; but, glancing at Leo’s face, he saw that his cousin looked flushed and determined.  It would not do to quarrel with such a little fellow as Leo, so he checked the sharp words that rose to his lips, and answered with an effort to be good-natured:  “Try it yourself, then.  I’ll just sit here and hold the reins, and you can reason with him all you have a mind to.”

Leo went up to the pony’s head, patted and spoke gently to him.  Winkie arched his neck, then put down his nose and coolly rubbed it all over his young master’s face, as if deprecating his misconduct, while making his complaint, as it were, that he had not been fairly treated.

“If he isn’t the cutest chap!” ejaculated Rob, delighted at his sagacity.

Jack could not help being amused also.

“Come now, Kittelywink, go ’long!” said he.  “You shall have some sugar when I get home.”

Most horses are very fond of sugar, and Winkie was no exception.  He turned his ears back, with what Rob called “a pleased expression,” at this propitiatory tone.  But, although he enjoyed the petting now lavished upon him from all quarters, his sensibilities had apparently been too deeply wounded to admit of his being at once conciliated.

“I know!” suggested Jack, unwilling to relinquish the reins.  “Suppose I ride on his back?”

Leo demurred till he saw that the pony did not oppose Jack’s endeavor to mount.  Winkie appeared to be under the impression that they were now to leave the wagon and the despised load behind.  To the surprise of the boys he started ahead willingly, and Jack’s spirits rose.

“Ha-ha! that’s a good fellow!” he began.

Winkie went on a few rods.  Presently he discovered that his expectations were not to be realized.  The wagon was unusually heavy still; the clattering boards set up a racket every time he moved.  He could not get away from them.  It might be a good plan to try again, though.  He capered and danced, then plunged onward.  Jack did not look like a model horseman at this juncture.  The boys screamed at him, giving contrary advice; though this made no difference, for his utmost exertions were directed to clinging to his refractory steed.