"I don't believe it. Why, see how he is hindering things."
"But just see how the crowd enjoy him," returned Pickles. "Why, he's the best laugh-maker in the parade. He's a part of the parade all right."
But at this point the dappled Shetland, which had so captivated Freckles's heart in the morning, appeared. He was wearing a shining harness and drew a glittering basket phaeton. He was driven by a boy of about Freckles's own age. The boy seemed to have perfect control over the small horse, for he danced, waltzed, and even reared on his hind legs at a touch of the whip and a pull on the line by the young driver.
Freckles fairly gasped at the sight of him. "See him, see him, fellers. Look at him dance. See him rear. My, ain't he a pippin? Ain't he the dearest little horse?" Here words failed the orphan from the poor-farm, and he sat in speechless admiration until Dapples and his
