I sent him to the village." "Well, I suppose I can put on the saddle myself.

Your conscience probably would not allow you to do it--even if common courtesy towards a woman, and that woman your sister, demanded it." "Without deciding the latter point, I should think it almost impossible for me to put a saddle on the roan just now." "Why?
I do not understand you." "Because he is doubtless miles away by this time." "Jehosaphat did not take the horse!" "It is precisely what he did do." "He knew I wanted the roan to ride to Salem town this afternoon." "He told me you did; but I said that I thought you would have too much sense to go.

Still, if you would go, that I would lend you one of my horses." "Well, where is your horse ?" "There, at the door.

You can take off my saddle, and put on your side-saddle, and, if you are in a hurry, Sweetbriar can do the distance in half the time that the roan could." Mistress Putnam could have cried with anger and vexation.

Like many people of strong and resolute will, she was a good deal of a coward on horseback; and she knew that Sweetbriar was what the farmers called "a young and very skittish animal." Still her determined spirit rose against thus being outdone; besides, she knew well that in a case like this, where none of the "afflicted circle," not even her own daughter, would aid her, the whole thing might fall through if she were not present.