154 LETTERS TO MARCO xxm 



present, unless it be that on Saturday even- 

 ing last a poor horse got into the flam, or 

 muddy edge of the river, and was drowned 

 in some six inches of water during the night. 

 It belonged to a travelling pedlar of brushes 

 and brooms, who hawked these things about 

 in a cart ; he had paid sixpence for the horse's 

 keep in the meadow opposite our house, and 

 had what is termed hobbled it, i.e. tied one 

 of its fore legs to a hind one. The poor 

 thing, in trying to reach the water to drink, 

 stuck fast in the mud, fell with his head in 

 the water, and so was drowned. What 

 interested me most was the behaviour of the 

 other horses which were in the same field ; 

 they came down close to the dead one, 

 grunting and whinnying and pawing the 

 ground in a very curious way, seeming bent 

 on arousing the dead one. 



The man was in an awkward predicament 

 with his cart and brooms. I need not say 

 that he valued the horse at a high figure, 

 ^20, I think, and lost no time in sending 



