220 MY HORSE ; MY LOVE 



' Yes, I always do ; but maybe you haven't looked at 

 them, and gauged their enormous strength. They don't 

 look badly used, or driven to death, with their splendidly 

 rounded bodies, so sleek and well-groomed, their business- 

 like air of seeming to know just what is required of them. 

 Look at their sturdy, even trot, and instant, quiet halt ! ' 



' But the pull up this hill must be a fearful strain on 

 them ! ' 



' Well, it may be, although a third horse is always hitched 

 on to lessen it, but I've mounted this hill on a bicycle, and 

 couldn't help thinking how humanely the horses are treated, 

 for such an easy ascent.' 



' But how would jiW(^ like to pull up such a burden?' she 

 persisted, while everybody smiled. 



' If I were a horse, I think I might manage it, but I 

 wasn't built that way,' and the smile became audible. 



' I suppose you know,' she snapped, ' ihat bus horses live 

 only three years, so cmelly hard is their work ! ' 



' I've heard that surprising statement before ; but have 

 you ever talked with the bus-drivers?' 



' Never ! ' she exclaimed, horrified. 



'Well, being an American, I've claimed that privilege 

 quite often. To ride on top of a bus, and talk to the driver, 

 is a new sensation, and in the pursuit of knowledge, I find 

 the old coachees as intelligent and interesting in their way, 

 as any men I've met ! ' 



' Interesting ! Fancy ! In what way, pray ? ' 



' They can give you no end of reliable information along 

 the road they travel, and are proud to be questioned, and 

 they have a remarkable knowledge of horses, individually 

 and in the aggregate. But would you mind going top-side 

 now, and we'll hear what he says.' 



