Eighteen
dollars was the bid, and it was about to be knocked down at that.
The October sun was shining warm and bright. A sudden desire to get
on the horse and ride out into the wide world, away from the city
and the haunts of men, never to come back, seized me. I raised the
bid to $19. Almost before I knew, the beast was knocked down to
me and I had paid over the money. It left me with exactly $6 to my
name.
Leading the animal by the halter, I went down the street and
sat on the stoop of the Robinson House to think. With every step,
perplexities I hadn't thought of sprang up. In the first place, I
could not ride. I had always wanted to, but had never learned. Even
if I had been able to, where was I going, and to do what? I couldn't
ride around and sell flat-irons. The wide world seemed suddenly a
cold and far-off place, and $6 but small backing in an attack upon
it, with a hungry horse waiting to be fed. That was only too evident.
[Illustration: "The wide world seemed suddenly a cold and far-off
place."]
The beast was tearing the hitching-post with its teeth in a way that
brooked no delay.
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