Trip clomped off the elevator.
“Right!” Pony exclaimed, hoping that the governor had figured out the pattern of commands.
Pony turned right and walked through an open door, where the First Lady was struggling to set the heavy box of trivets on a shelf. When she heard the minihorse’s sneakers and glanced around and saw her husband, she shrieked and the box crashed to the floor. Trivets clanked and banged and scattered across centuries-old heart of pine.
“Wait!” Mrs. Crimm tried to explain as her thoughts and fears tumbled together nonsensically.
Trip stopped.
“What are all these?” the governor asked her, perplexed, as he eyed the trivets through his magnifying glass. “Okay, ” he said.
Released from the wait command, Trip stood inside the pantry surrounded by trivets and listened for what he was supposed to do next.
“So that’s what this is all about!” the governor declared. “Shopping. Huh. You’ve been hiding trivets again, and all the while I thought you were entertaining immoral men in the mansion. ”
“How could you think such a thing?” the First Lady cried out as she stooped to gather up her beloved trivets, or at least the most recent batch of them she had ordered over the Internet. “Why Bedford! I would never cheat on you!”
“Leave it, ” the governor ordered her to stop picking up the trivets, and Trip obeyed the command by not bothering to do anything, not that he was doing much at the moment anyway.
“What do you mean, again?” Mrs. Crimm asked in amazement. “You know I’ve been hiding trivets?”
She gave Pony an accusing look, and he shrugged as if to say, He didn’t find out from me.
“Oh, I’ve run into your trivets here and there, ” the governor explained. “Frankly, I just thought they were junk, possibly left by previous governors in the last century. ”
“They most certainly aren’t junk, ” Mrs. Crimm said indignantly. “And they’re very expensive, ” she unwisely added.
“Send them back, ” the governor ordered.
“Back? Back!” the First Lady raised her voice angrily and Trip took a step back inside the pantry, clanking a horseshoe trivet into a lacy one that featured a dog.
“Goodness me!” Pony was startled. “You think he recognized the horseshoe and that’s why he decided to step on it? That’s one smart little horse! Maybe he recognized the dog, too. Maybe that’s his way of saying he wants to knock Frisky out of the way and be your only pet. ”
“We must keep them separated, ” Mrs. Crimm said, dismayed that she had yet one more thing to worry about. “Oh, poor Frisky. He’ll be heartbroken if we pay more attention to this little pony than to him. ”
It was unfortunate that she planted this thought in her husband’s head, because from that point on, he began to refer to the minihorse as the pony, which was very confusing to Pony the butler.
“Come here, pony, ” the governor tried to coax Trip out of the pantry, and Pony responded by stepping inside the pantry, where he, Trip, the First Lady, and the governor crowded one another and began to step on trivets. “Be good, pony, and come on out of here, ” the governor said as if Trip were Frisky and might expect a biscuit.
Pony stepped back out of the pantry, and Trip didn’t budge.
“You’re being very obstinate, pony, ” the governor said rather sharply.
“I’m sorry, sir, ” Pony said, and by now he was thoroughly confused. “I didn’t mean to do nothing to upset you. I guess you want your eggs under. And let me see. Load up? I believe that’s what you said. ”
“Right, ” the governor abstractedly answered as he peered through his magnifying glass at Trip as the mini-horse walked out of the pantry and under a harvest table before he headed to the elevator and took a right, which led him into the kitchen.
“That’s the most amazing horse I ever seen!” Pony marveled. “Look at that, sir. I think he’s going to fix your eggs. Now listen up, ” he said to Trip. “Under. And load up. That’s how your master wants his eggs. “