A Little Florida Lady | Page 4

at six this
morning."
"At six, papa? What have you been doing?"
"I went down town, and then I drove far out into the country."
"Oh, why didn't you waken me and let me go?"
"I had business on hand. Come along down to the dining-room. Your
mother had some breakfast saved for you. I have a surprise for you."
"A surprise, papa? What is it?"

"It wouldn't be as great a surprise if I told you." This was all the
satisfaction she received until after she had breakfasted.
"We're going for a drive," said Mr. Davenport as she came out of the
dining-room.
"Is the drive the surprise, papa?"
"You'll know all in good time, Beth. You must have patience," he
answered as he led the way out to the piazza.
"Get your hats, and bring Beth's with you," he said to Mrs. Davenport
and Marian who were listening to the music.
"What do you think of that man and the rig?" asked Mr. Davenport of
Beth, indicating a middle-aged negro who stood holding a bay mare
hitched to a surrey.
Beth noted that the man looked good-natured. There were funny little
curves on his face suggestive of laughter even when in repose. Jolly
wrinkles lurked around his eyes. Beth saw two rows of pearly teeth
though his mouth was partly hidden by a mustache and beard. His nose
was large and flat. It looked like a dirty piece of putty thrown at
haphazard on a black background. Beth, however, did not mind his
homeliness.
"He's nice, and the horse is beautiful," she said.
"Then let's go down and talk to the man."
As Mr. Davenport and Beth walked to the side of the darky, he lifted
his stovepipe hat that had been brushed until the silk was wearing away.
He revealed thereby a shock of iron-gray wool. He made a sweeping
bow.
"Massa, am dis de little missy dat yo' wuz tellin' 'bout? I'se powerful
glad to meet yo', missy."
He was so very polite that even irrepressible Beth was a little awed.

She hid halfway behind her father.
"This is January, Beth."
"What a very queer name," she whispered.
"It is queer, but you are in a strange land. For awhile you'll think you
are in fairy-land. Everything will be so different. Do you want to stay
with January while I go in to bring your mother?"
She nodded that she did. Mr. Davenport reëntered the hotel. Beth
seated herself upon the curbstone, and looked at the bay horse behind
which she was soon to have the bliss of driving. She thought it about as
nice a horse as she had ever seen. Her curiosity overcame her
momentary shyness. "Is it your horse, January?"
He smiled. "No, 'deed, missy, but I raised her from a colt, and she loves
me like I wuz her massa. Why, she runs to me from de pasture when I
jes' calls, while she's dat ornary wid odders, dey jes' can't cotch her. It
takes old January to cotch dis horse, don't it, Dolly?"
The horse whinnied.
"Is Dolly her name?"
"Dat's what I calls her, honey. It ain't her real name. Her real name----"
"Oh, has she a nickname, too? She's like me then. My name isn't really
Beth."
"'Deed?" he asked with polite interest.
"It's Elizabeth, but I'm called that only when I have tantrums."
"What am dem, missy?"
"Well," she blushingly stammered, "I sometimes forget to be good, and
then I can't help having them--tantrums, you know. Just like the little
girl with the curl who, when she was bad, was horrid. January, are you

ever horrid?"
He looked self-conscious. "Law, missy, I nebber tinks I am, but Titus
'lows I am, but he don't know much nohow."
Dolly whinnied again, which recalled Beth's thoughts to the horse.
"Who owns Dolly, January?"
"Law, missy, didn't I tole yo' dat she 'longs to yer paw now?"
Beth was so excited that she jumped to her feet, and began to clap her
hands.
Her antics made her parents and Marian smile as they came from the
hotel.
"Mamma, she's our horse. January said so. Dolly, do you like me?"
Dolly pricked up her ears as if she understood, and whinnied.
"She wants some sugar," declared Beth, believing that she understood
horse language. She took a stale piece of candy out of her pocket, and
gave it to Dolly. This attention sealed a never-ending friendship
between the two.
"Dolly's the surprise, isn't she?" asked Beth, running up to her father.
He smiled enigmatically, and that was all the answer she received.
Meantime, January, hat in hand, was bowing with Chesterfieldian
politeness to Mrs. Davenport and Marian.
"All aboard," cried Mr. Davenport.
"Let me sit with January," begged Beth.
Marian, also, expressed a like wish. The