The Adventures of a Suburbanite

by Ellis Parker Butler

  III. THE EQUINE PALACE

  "NOW that Mr. Prawley is back," I told Isobel, "we can take that trip toPort Lafayette with Millington," and it was then Isobel mentioned theadvisability of keeping a horse; but Millington and I, not being afraidof automobiles, began to go to Port Lafayette in his automobile. As arule we began to go every day, and sometimes twice a day, and I must sayfor Millington's automobile that it was one of the most patient I haveever seen. Patient and willing are the very words. It would start forPort Lafayette as willingly as anything, and go along as patiently aspossible. It was a very patient goer. Haste had no charms for it.

  Millington used to come over bright and early and say cheerfully, "Well,how would you like to take a little run out to Port Lafayette to-day?"and I would get my cap, and we would go over to his garage and get intothe machine. Then Millington would pull a lever or two, and begin tolisten for noises indicative of internal disorders. As a rule, theybegan immediately, but sometimes he would not hear anything that couldbe called really serious until we reached the corner of the block. Once,I remember, and I shall never forget the date, we went three milesbefore Millington stopped the car and got out his wrenches andantiseptic bandages and other surgical tools; but usually the noisesbegan inside of the block. Then we would push it home, and postpone thetrip for that day, while Millington laboured over the automobile.

  "We will get to Port Lafayette yet," he would say hopefully.

  As soon as Isobel mentioned keeping a horse I knew she was beginning tolike suburban life, and I was delighted. Having lived all her life in aflat, her mind naturally ran to theatres and roof gardens, rather thanto the delights of the suburbs, and her reading still consisted more ofdepartment store bargain sales and advertisements of new plays thanof seed catalogues and ready mixed paints, as a good suburban wife'sreading should; but as soon as she mentioned that it would be niceto have a horse I knew she was at length falling a victim to theallurements of our semi-country existence. In order to add fuel to theflame I took up the suggestion with enthusiasm.

  "Isobel," I said warmly, "that is a splendid idea! A horse is justwhat we need to add the finishing touch to our happiness! With thesesplendid, tree-bordered roads--"

  "A horse that is not afraid of Mr. Millington's automobile," interposedIsobel.

  "Certainly," I said, "a horse that you can drive without fear--"

  "But not a pokey old thing," said Isobel.

  "By no means," I agreed; "what we want is a young, fresh horse that canget over the road--"

  "And gentle," said Isobel. "And strong. And he must be a good-lookinghorse. One with a glossy skin. Reddish brown, with a long tail. Iwould like a great, big, strong-looking horse, like the Donelleys', butfaster, like the Smiths'."

  "Exactly," I said. "That's the sort of horse I had in mind. And we willget the horse immediately. I shall stay at home tomorrow and selectthe kind of horse we want, unless Mr. Millington takes me to PortLafayette--"

  "Now, John," said Isobel, "you must not be too hasty. You must becareful. I think the right way to buy a horse is to shop a little first,and see what people have in stock, and not take the first thing that isoffered, the way you do when you buy shirts. You know how hideous someof those last shirts are, and the arms far too long, and we don't wantanything like that to happen when you are buying a horse. I have beentalking to Mrs. Rolfs, and she says it is mere folly to buy the firsthorse that is offered. Mrs. Rolfs says it stands to reason that a manwho wants to get rid of a horse would be the first man to offer it. Assoon as he learned we wanted a horse he would rush to us with the horse,so as not to lose the chance of getting rid of it. And Mrs. Millingtonsays it is worse than foolish to wait until the very last horse isoffered and then buy that one, for the man that hung back in that waywould undoubtedly be the man that did not particularly care to part withhis horse, and would feel that he was doing us a favour, and would aska perfectly unreasonable price. The thing to do, John, is to buy, asnearly as possible, the middle horse that is offered. If twenty-onehorses were offered the thing to do would be to buy the eleventh horse,and in that way we would be sure to get a good horse at a reasonableprice."

  I told Isobel that what she said was perfectly logical, and that I wouldget right to work and frame up an advertisement for the local paper,saying we wanted a horse and would be glad to examine twenty-one ofthem.

  "Now, wait a minute," she said, when I had started for my desk, "anddon't be in too great a hurry. You know the mistake you made in thoselast socks you bought, by going into the first store you came to, andthe very first time you put on those socks they wore full of holes. Wedon't want a horse that will wear like that. Mrs. Rolfs says we must bevery particular what sort of man we buy our horse from. She says it islike suicide to buy a horse from a dealer, because a dealer knows somuch more about horses than we do, and is up to so many tricks, that hewould have no trouble at all in fooling us, and we would probably get ahorse that was worth nothing at all. And Mrs. Millington says it is thegreatest mistake in the world to buy a horse from an ordinary suburbancommuter. She says commuters know nothing at all about horses and justbuy them blindfold, and that, if we buy a horse from a commuter, we aresure to get a worthless horse that the commuter has had foisted upon himand is anxious to get rid of. The person to buy a horse of, John, is aperson that knows all about horses, but who is not a dealer."

  "My idea exactly," I told Isobel, and started for my desk again.

  "John, dear," said Isobel, before I had taken two steps, "why are youalways so impetuous? Of course I want a horse, and I would like to haveit as soon as possible, but I believe in exercising a little commonsense. Where, may I ask, are you going to keep the horse when you havegot him?"

  Now, this had not occurred to me, but I answered promptly.

  "I shall put him out to board," I said unhesitatingly, and there wasreally nothing else I could say, for there was no stable on my place. Iknow plenty of suburbanites who keep horses and have them boarded at thelivery stables. But this did not please Isobel.

  "You must do nothing of the kind!" said Isobel firmly. "Mrs. Rolfs andMrs. Millington both say there is nothing worse for a good horse thanto put it out to board. Mrs. Rolfs says it is much cheaper to keep yourhorse in your own bam, and Mrs. Millington says she would have a verylow opinion of any man who would trust his horse to a liveryman. Shesays the horse is man's most faithful servant, and should be treatedas such, and that she has not the least doubt that the liverymanwould underfeed our horse, and then let it out to hire to some youngharum-scarum, who would whip it into a gallop until it got overheated,and then water it when it was so hot the water would sizzle in itsstomach, creating steam and giving it a bad case of colic. And Mrs.Rolfs says the liveryman would be pleased with this, rather than sorry,for then he would have to call in the veterinary, who would divide hisfee with the liveryman. So, you see, we must keep our horse in our ownstable."

  "But, my dear," I protested, "we have no stable."

  "Then we must build one," said Isobel with decision. "Mrs. Rolfs, assoon as she heard we were going to keep a horse, lent me a magazine witha picture of a very nice stable, and Mrs. Millington lent me anothermagazine with some excellent hints on how a modern stable should bearranged, and I think, with all the modern methods of doing thingsrapidly, we might have our stable all complete in a week, or ten days atthe most."

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  When I looked at Mrs. Rolfs's picture of a stable I felt immediatelythat it would not suit my purse. I admitted to Isobel that it was ahandsome stable, and that the cupola with the weather vane looked verywell indeed, and that the idea of having two wings extended from themain building to form a sort of court was a good one; but I told herit would inconvenience the traffic on the street before our house if wemoved our house far enough into the street to permit putting a stable ofthat size in our back-yard. I also told her, as gently as I could, thatthe style of architecture did not suit our house, for while our houseis a plain house, the stable recommended by Mrs. Rolfs
was pressed brickand stained shingles, with a slate roof. I also pointed out to Isobelthat one horse hardly needed a stable of that size, and that even a verylarge horse would feel lonely in the main building.

  I remarked jocosely that it would be well enough, if we could keep twoor three grooms with nothing to do but hunt through the stable, tryingto find the horse. If we could afford to do that, it would be a pleasureto awaken in the morning and have one of the grooms come running to uswith the light of joy on his face, saying, "What do you think, sir?

  "But I told her it would inconvenience the traffic on the street beforeour house if we moved our house far enough into the street to permitputting a stable of that size in our backyard."

  Isobel smiled in a wan, sad way at this, so I did not say, as I hadintended saying if she had received my joke well, that the only horserequiring wings was Pegasus, and that he furnished his own.

  Instead, I took up Mrs. Millington's article on the modern stable.It was a masterly article, indeed, and it spoke highly of the gravitystable. No hay forks, no pitching up forage, no elevating feed, noloading of manure from a heap into a wagon. No, indeed! Everything mustgo down; the natural law of gravitation must do the work. Three stories,with the rear of the stable against the side of the hill. Drive yourfeed into the top story and unload it. Slide it down into the secondstory to the horse. Through a trap in the stall the manure falls into awagon waiting to receive it.

  There were other details--electric lights, silver-mounted chains,and other little things--but I did not pay much attention to them. Iexplained to Isobel that it would be difficult to build a firm,solid hill, large enough to back a three-story stable against, in ourbackyard. Of course, there were plenty of hills in our part of LongIsland that were lying idle and might be had at low cost, but it costsa great deal to move a hill, and all of them were so large they wouldoverlap our property and bury the homes of Mr. Rolfs and Mr. Millington.This did not greatly impress Isobel, however, and I had to come outfirmly and tell her it would be impossible to build a stable threestories high, with two wings, pressed brick, shingle walls, slate roof,and a weather vane, and at the same time erect a nice hill and buy ahorse and rig, all with one thousand dollars, which was all the money Icould afford to spend.

  When I put it that way, and gave her her choice of one thousand dollars'worth of hill, or one thousand dollars' worth of stable, or one thousanddollars' worth of assorted horse, stable, and rig, she chose the last,and only remarked that she would insist on the weather vane and themanure pit. She said that Mrs. Rolfs had taken such an interest,bringing over the magazine, that it was only right to have the weathervane, at least; and that Mrs. Millington had been so interested and kindthat the very least we could do was to have the manure pit.

  "And another thing," said Isobel, "Mr. Prawley is going to move out ofthe flat overhead."

  "Great Caesar!" I exclaimed. "Is that man quitting again? Isn't hegetting enough wages?"

  "Wages?" said Isobel. "Nothing has been said about wages. But thisMr. Prawley will not stay if we buy a horse. He says he does not mindgardening your garden and mowing your lawn and taking all your otheroutdoor exercise for you, but that a horse once reached over the side ofthe stall and bit him, and he doesn't want to work--to live in a placewhere horses are liable to bite him at any time without a minute'snotice."

  "Tell that fellow," I said, "that we will get a horse that doesn't bite,or that we will muzzle the horse, or--"

  "It would be easier," said Isobel, "to--to have a Prawley move in whowas not afraid of horses. I know of a man in East Westcote, and he hashad experience with horses--"

  "Very well," I said. "I suppose you will wish your allowance increased?"

  "Yes," said Isobel, "if the new Mr. Prawley moves into the flatoverhead, I will need about five dollars a month more than you have beenallowing me."