4 THE CARE OF HORSES 



the roads like iron. Unknown to me, my groom 

 was selling the corn, and my mare was weak. Ten 

 minutes after starting she reeled and fell, throwing 

 me clear of the saddle and absolutely unhurt ; but 

 before I could rise a terrible crash came as of a 

 falling house. It was my poor mare, unable to 

 save herself, turning a complete somersault. I was 

 underneath ; an inch and a half more would have 

 meant death for me. I shouted to her. For an 

 instant she swayed and rocked above me, then with 

 a mighty effort, and in a most awkward position, she 

 managed to roll back instead of going over, groaning 

 as she strove to roll slowly, knowing full well that 

 she was crushing me under her. The instant she 

 was off she was on her feet, and her warm, quivering 

 breath was on my face as she sniffed and whinnied 

 over me, the faithful beast ! and for some days after- 

 wards she refused her food, dreading my absence 

 meant that the worst had happened. 



After several months, when I was once more able 

 to visit the stables, no words can express that mare's 

 delight and the genuine welcome she gave me as I 

 once more patted and caressed her. 



Again, years ago my father had a brown mare, a 

 queer-tempered animal, and very particular as to who 

 went near her in the stable. If a stranger presumed 

 to approach her she would lash out with her heels, 

 and never would she allow the use of a whip or stick. 

 One day my eldest sister, then a tiny tot three years 

 of age, was missing. After a fruitless search in all 

 likely places, my father noticed the stable-door open. 

 Glancing inside, to his horror, he saw the little one 

 standing close to the mare's heels, gently hitting her 

 hocks with a stick. For a moment my father stood 

 spellbound, not daring to move or speak, fearing to 

 see the child killed on the spot ; but the noble and 

 sagacious beast, though quivering with fright, never 



