Brutus, Cow Pony 



'*I've got him !" he heard him shout to the officer 

 and saw him wave a piece of paper in the air. 

 Brutus was glad, of course, but it wouldn't do to 

 give in without a fight before all those snickering 

 Tommies, and then Livingston would think 

 better of him, too — that is, if he was the sort he 

 looked to be, with those broad, stooping shoulders 

 and the long, loose jointed arms and legs. He glar- 

 ed at Livingston and rounded his back a little 

 more and laid his ears back a little further; then, 

 as the man took a step nearer, he bared his teeth, 

 but in an instant he felt the other astride his back 

 and the knees almost squeezing the wind out of 

 him. 



Good! This was a man — in a flash he was off 

 like a bolt of lightning, bucking, rearing and sun 

 fishing, while the man on his back belted him 

 about the head with his big felt hat and halloed. 

 The soldiers watched them in open mouthed 

 wonder until they disappeared from view. 



Fifteen minutes later, gentle and contented, 

 Brutus cantered quietly along the main street, 

 while the man patted his neck and laughed good 

 naturedly. The war had begun in earnest and 

 the town was filled with horses and guns, the men 

 in khaki, while every day another big transport 

 arrived and disembarked more. Brutus had light 

 work these days. It was only to canter every 

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