Chapter Eleven (part b)

The picnic went downhill from there. Everyone watched with various degrees of fascination and disgust as the horse chomped on celery and gnashed on carrots. He had six and a half sandwiches and gobbled up all three apples right down to the core. When he was finally done he wiped his muzzle discretely on the tablecloth and belched.

"I do like a good picnic," he told them.

Soon it was time to travel on, so the horse got back into his harness. But when the children got up into the wagon again they found that he had done it backwards and was now standing with his head facing the wagon seats. The porcupine was the last to notice. He picked up the reins and found himself face to face with the horse.

"What's this?" he sputtered.

"My nose," the horse told him.

"Well take your nose and turn it around the other way," said the porcupine. "You're supposed to be facing forwards."

"Who says?" demanded the horse.

'Well, no-one exactly says... " said the porcupine.

"That's what I thought."

"'But everybody knows the horse has to face the same way as the driver," explained the porcupine.

"So why don't you turn around then," said the horse.

"Okay, okay!" said the porcupine. "Go backwards if you want, go upside down for all I care! Just go!"

"I will," said the horse and he promptly turned himself right way around again. "I don't really feel like going backwards right now, but I could if I wanted to!"

The horse started pulling the wagon down the road.

"I don't know why I put up with him sometimes," the porcupine told Jennifer. "I'm the one driving, not him!"

"You know I was just thinking about that," said the horse. "Kind of looks nice sitting up there. Wouldn't mind watching the scenery a bit myself."

"But if you sit up here who'd pull the wagon?"

"You could," suggested the horse.

"Me!"

"Why not? Something wrong with pulling the wagon?"

"Certainly not," said the porcupine. "Why, if I could I would, I'd be right down there pulling too."

"Oh sure," said the horse.

"No really, I would!"

"Yeah, well I've heard that before. When you're a horse you hear a lot of things."

"But somebody has to drive," said the porcupine.

"That don't look so hard to me," said the horse.

"That's because you're down there and don't see the half of it," said the porcupine. "Why, I had to train for years to do this. The responsibilities alone are enough to give an animal pause! Somebody has to think of where to go and watch where we've been! Someone has to be on top of things and make sure they're underneath! Somebody has to do all this work! If I didn't who would?"

"I could," suggested the horse.

"Oh, we couldn't have that," said the porcupine.

"We couldn't?" asked the horse.

"Of course not! Think it through and you'll see how fair and equal it all is! You pulling and me driving, why the work's all split up fifty-fifty around here, fairer than that, sixty-sixty and that's saying a lot! Forward ho!" he called out grandly.

"Forward what did you say?" asked the horse.

"Ho!" said the porcupine. "Forward ho!"

The horse continued to stare at him.

"I think he means giddy-up," Jennifer explained.

"Oh," said the horse. "That's a relief. I thought he was about to sing a song."