14 JUSTIN MORGAN 



Poised at a dizzy height, on wobbly, spindly legs, 

 which showed little promise of the symmetry and beauty 

 of later years, he romped near his mother's protecting 

 heels or rested in her shadow. 



His merry, laughing companion was a brook which 

 flowed down to the river ; he played along its willow- 

 fringed banks, racing with the beckoning waters until 

 out of breath ; then, hurrying back to his mother through 

 the gathering dusk, he would return with her to their 

 pleasant stable in the barnyard of Silas Whitman. 



His developing colt-nature expanded, day by day, to 

 the beauties and interests about him. He loved the 

 twinkling waters, the overhanging trees, the ferns 

 spiralling among dark-green shadows; the delicate scent 

 of violets, peeping between moss-covered stones, de- 

 lighted his sensitive nostrils. He loved the birds, flutter- 

 ing and swaying on boughs and chirping soft, sweet 

 notes. In response to all Nature his small-pointed ears 

 pricked and quivered. He blew his warm breath for fun 

 on butterflies and bees, as they fussed over dew-wet blos- 

 soms, but swerved aside, with trembling nostrils, at the 

 strident cry of a jay, waiting in the shadow for his 

 chance of a practical joke ! 



The hoot of an owl, the bark of a fox, the crashing 

 of a squirrel through the branches overhead, would make 

 him scamper to his mother's side, panting and excited. 



These were his baby fears ; his real and lasting an- 

 tipathy was to dogs ; the distant howling of one seemed to 

 fill him with terror ; thunderstorms, too, made him ner- 

 vous and, so impressible was he to these, he could tell, 

 two days in advance, that one was coming; only much 

 urging could prevail upon him to leave the security of 

 his stable when he felt the approach of one. 



Gradually his mother taught him all that one good, 

 faithful horse can teach another, not to show fear, not 



