20 His Own Pedigree. 



gence beaming from your soft, brown eyes, and 

 such evident liking for my company, I think you 

 know how warm my heart beats for you. And 

 how generous the blood which courses through 

 your own tense veins your master knows full 

 well. If I had to flee for my life, Patroclus, I 

 should wish that your mighty back, tough thews, 

 and noble courage could bear me through the 

 struggle. For I never called upon you yet, but 

 what there came the response which only the tru- 

 est of your race can give. 



No, Pat ! you 've got all the sugar you can 

 have to-day. My pockets are not a grocer's shop. 

 Stand quiet while I mount, and you and I will 

 take our usual stroll. 



Patroclus is said to have been sired in the Old 

 Country out of a cavalry mare brought over by an 

 English officer to Quebec, and there foaled in 

 Her Majesty's service. Even this much I had on 

 hearsay. But he has the instincts of the charger 

 in every fibre, — and perhaps the most intelligent 

 and best saddle beasts among civilized nations 

 belong to mounted troops. As old Hiram Wood- 

 ruff used to say, Patroclus makes his own pedi- 

 gree. I know what he is ; I care not whence he 

 came. 



No need to extol your points. Though there 

 be those of higher lineage, and many a speedier 



