The cabman, pausing in his deliberate movements, seemed struck by some misty recollection.
“ Oh! ’Ere you are, young fellow,” he whispered. “You’ll know him again—won’t you?”
Stevie was staring at the horse, whose hind quarters appeared unduly elevated by the effect of emaciation. The little stiff tail seemed to have been fitted in for a heartless joke; and at the other end the thin, flat neck, like a plank covered with old horse-hide, drooped to the ground under the weight of an enormous bony head. The ears hung at different angles, negligently; and the macabre figure of that mute dweller on the earth steamed straight up from ribs and backbone in the muggy stillness of the air.
The cabman struck lightly Stevie’s breast with the iron hook protruding from a ragged, greasy sleeve.
“
