252 ROAD, TRACK, AND STABLE. 



more, and allows nothing outside of business to dis- 

 turb or excite him ; and hence, no doubt, his excellent 

 state of preservation. 



But Grief awakes when the alarm strikes. How- 

 ever long or steep the road, however fast may gallop 

 the stout young bays in front, he always keeps up 

 with the engine. The strength and nervous force 

 that he accumulates in the stable Grief expends lav- 

 ishly on the way to a fire. His eye is then full of 

 spirit; his expanded nostrils display the red glow 

 within ; his neck curves to the task ; his splendid 

 shoulder strains against the collar. He looks twice 

 the size of the horse that was dozing in his stall a few 

 minutes before. Arrived at the scene of action, he 

 draws up as close as possible to the engine. Grief 

 likes to get where the sparks fall in showers about 

 him, and there he will stand, shaking his head to dis- 

 lodge the burning particles, pleased with the shrieks 

 and roar of the engine, with the shouts of the men, 

 with the smoke and flame of the conflagration. At a 

 great fire in Boston on Thanksgiving day, 1889, the 

 engine which he followed was burned within twenty- 

 five minutes after it left the house ; but Grief stood 

 by it, firm as a rock, till the flames came near and he 

 was hurried away by his driver. 



The patriarch of the department is, however, not 

 Grief, but another horse, stationed in East Boston, and 

 called Old Joe. His age is variously estimated, but 

 I gather that it is at least twenty years, and possibly 

 twenty-four. Joe is not so impassive as Grief ; he is 

 more like the rest of us, being swayed by curiosity, 

 touched by social affections, and dependent upon so- 

 ciety. He has a gentle, intelligent, courageous eye, 



