was angry. “You are the one who scares the poor horse,” she said to Mr. Nye. “You have no right to treat her so badly.”
Mr. Nye grabbed Felicity again, but just then Penny whinnied wildly.
“Quiet, ye nag!” Mr. Nye shouted at Penny. He picked up a big stick and climbed into the pasture. As he came near, Penny reared. With a mighty pull, she broke the rope that tied her. Mr. Nye lost his balance and fell back into the dirt. He shook his fist at Penny as she ran away to the far end of the pasture.
“Ye worthless nag!” Mr. Nye yelled after Penny. His face was spattered with mud. “I’d give ye to anyone who can ride ye! Anyone can have ye! Hear me?” Mr. Nye stomped toward his house. Suddenly he turned toward Felicity and snarled, “And you! Get yourself and those brats out of here! I’ll skin ye alive if I see ye here again.” Then he stormed off.
Nan was crying. “Let’s go! Please, let’s go,” she begged. She pulled on Felicity’s petticoats and dragged her away. Felicity looked back to see Penny galloping around the pasture. At least Penny was not tied to the stake anymore. She was fenced in, but she could run and move. Good for you, Penny, thought Felicity. Don’t you let Mr. Nye scare you. I won’t let him scare me!
At suppertime, it was William who gave it away. “Big horse,” he said. “Bad man.” He waved his spoon wildly.
“Shh,” hissed Nan.
“What’s all this?” asked Mother. “You’ve not been out to see that horse of Jiggy Nye’s, have you?”
“Felicity made us go,” said Nan. “And the horse made Mr. Nye fall down in the mud. Then Mr. Nye called the horse a nag, and he said anyone could take it if they could ride it. And he said he would skin us alive if we ever came back!”
“Hush, my child!” scolded Mrs. Merriman. “It’s not proper to repeat such talk.” She looked at Felicity, and her face was serious. “Jiggy Nye told you not to come back, and you won’t—ever. His tannery is not a place for children.”
“He was going to strike the horse with a big stick!” added Nan.
“The man’s a villain of the worst sort,” muttered Mr. Merriman. “A horse beater.”
Ben spoke up. “He’ll kill the horse, sir,” he said. “Mark me, he will.”
“Oh, Father,” cried Felicity. “We can’t let Mr. Nye hurt Penny! We’ve got to help her. We’ve got to get her away from Mr. Nye! Can’t we buy her?”
“Gracious, no!” exclaimed her mother. “We’ve Old Bess for your father to ride, and Blossom to draw the cart.”
“Bess is so slow, it’s faster if you walk yourself!” said Felicity.
“Young lady,” said Mrs. Merriman. “It would not harm you to go more slowly in all things—stitches and speeches and thinking, too.”
Mr. Merriman spoke gently. “We’ve no need for a troublesome horse like that, my child. It would be useless to us, too. No one wants a horse that cannot be ridden. Besides, Marcus has enough to do with Old Bess and Blossom. He does not have time to care for another horse.”
“But I would take care of her,” said Felicity eagerly. “I would tame her and teach her. I would do everything.”
Ben looked up.
Mrs. Merriman sighed. “Lissie,” she said. “My impatient, headstrong Lissie. You have not the patience to sew a seam properly. You leave your writing practice half done. You lead your sister and brother to dangerous places and never stop to think. A willful girl and a willful horse is more than one family can handle. You must put that horse out of your head. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Felicity answered. For it was true, she did hear what her mother said. But she did not put the horse out of her head or her heart.
Ben’s Promise
It was better when she was outside. Felicity put on her shoes. Then she gathered her petticoats in her hand and ran fast through the garden, through the dark streets, past the sleeping houses. On she ran to the edge of town, where the trees grew close to the road and she was just another ghostly shadow.
By the time Felicity reached the pasture, she was out of breath. She stood on the lowest rail of the fence and searched the darkness for Penny. The horse was tied to a stake by a thick rope. Penny looked up and tossed her head.
Felicity did not dare speak aloud. “I’m here. It’s me,” she whispered to Penny. “You don’t have to trust me yet. But you will. I know you will.”
Penny did not move. Felicity left a small apple near the stake. “Good-bye,” she whispered. Then she ran home. The sky was only just beginning to grow light around the edges.
When Felicity came to breakfast, her mother looked at her. “Felicity!” she said. “Your petticoats are wet and muddy. Most likely your stockings are wet, too, all the way up to your garters. What on earth have you been doing?”
Felicity looked down at her muddy hem.
“I was just…just in the garden.”
Mrs. Merriman smiled. “Digging around the pumpkins you planted?” she asked. “My impatient one! They’ll not grow faster just to please you. Now sit down and eat your breakfast.”
I need breeches, thought Felicity. Then I can run freely. Then it won’t matter if I get wet and muddy. But how can I get them?
She found the answer in the mending pile. It was a pair of Ben’s breeches made of thin black cotton. Felicity knew Ben didn’t wear these breeches very often, just to church sometimes. He wouldn’t miss them if she borrowed them for a while.
The next morning before dawn, Felicity sneaked out of the house again. This time, she stopped by the stable. She had hidden Ben’s breeches there, under an old bucket. She put the breeches on over her shift and tied them around her waist with a rope. Ben was skinny but tall, so the breeches went down to Felicity’s ankles. As she ran through the silent streets toward the tannery, her legs felt so free! For once she could run as fast as she wanted to, without petticoats to hold her back.
Morning after morning, before anyone was awake, Felicity slipped out of the house to visit Penny. At first, Felicity stayed outside the pasture. After a few days, she sat on the top rail of the fence. She sat near, but not too near, the stake to which Penny was tied. Felicity never spoke aloud. She knew
