Then he'd start a little.

Mrs.Maxwell had a weight at his head to hold him, but he could easily have dragged that.

He was a good dispositioned horse, and he didn't want to run away, but he could not stand still.

I soon jumped up and slapped him, and rubbed him till my hands were dripping wet.

The poor brute was so grateful and would keep touching my arm with his nose.
Mrs.Maxwell sat under the trees fanning herself and laughing at me, but I didn't care.