FOUNDER OF HIS RACE 53 



Not being accustomed to rudeness, True backed, in- 

 dignantly, and dragged the boy along with him. 



At this moment there was a rustle, like leaves in au- 

 tumn, or the brush of wings, and the flying figure of a 

 maid seemed poised beside the little horse, so light and 

 airy was she. 



All the odors of aromatic herbs and grasses of Arabia 

 — myrrh, frankincense and balsam, of which his 

 mother had told him — enveloped his imagination and de- 

 lighted his senses. He thrust his large tremulous nos- 

 trils forward, hungry to inhale more deeply of this new 

 creature. Never had he scented her like before. 



''Oh, please, Mr. Judge!" she cried, and as soon as 

 she spoke True recognized the dulcet tones of Mistress 

 Lloyd, of Maryland. Thrilling, as she caught his rein, 

 he calmed himself instantly. ''Don't let them jerk him 

 so ! Ah, my Beauty," she continued, putting her cheek 

 against his, "here is a piece of sugar for you !" She ex- 

 tended the rose-leaf palm, from which he had seen his 

 father eat one day and on which was another bit of 

 maple sugar. "See, he is so zmlling to be good, if yon 

 zv'ill but let himT 



When he had lipped her hand all over very gently, 

 to get the last crumb, True poked his small muzzle 

 into the hollow of her neck and listened to her voice 

 murmuring in his ear. All the soft breezes and blue 

 sky of the universe were concentrated in the delicious 

 spell of her presence, for this young maiden was one of 

 those rare human beings who possess a mysterious un- 

 derstanding of animals, especially horses, which gives 

 a power and control over them — almost miraculous. 



True stepped carefully, lest his small well-shaped hoofs 

 might tread upon the marvellously tiny feet half hidden 

 beneath the flowered petticoat. All the while her voice was 

 saying soft, delightful things in his listening ear. 



