For the going, while much better than we had
expected, was still slow. It was rare, indeed, to be able to get the
horses out of a walk. And there is no more muscle-racking occupation
than riding a walking horse hour after hour through a long day.
By the end of the second day we were well away from even that remote
part of civilization from which we had started, and a terrible fact was
dawning on us. The cook did not like us!
Now, we all have our small vanities, and mine has always been my success
with cooks. I like cooks. As time goes on, I am increasingly dependent
on cooks. I never fuss a cook, or ask how many eggs a cake requires, or
remark that we must be using the lard on the hardwood floors. I never
make any of the small jests on that order, with which most housewives
try to reduce the cost of living.
No; I really go out of my way to ignore the left-overs, and not once on
this trip had I so much as mentioned dish-towels or anything unpleasant.
I had seen my digestion slowly going with a course of delicious but
indigestible saddle-bags, which were all we had for bread.
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