Life on a Wisconsin Farm 



away getting help to untie the pack-rope and 

 set the load back in its place. 



As I was the eldest boy I had the care of our 

 first span of work horses. Their names were 

 Nob and Nell. Nob was very intelligent, and 

 even affectionate, and could learn almost any- 

 thing. Nell was entirely different; balky and 

 stubborn, though we managed to teach her a 

 good many circus tricks; but she never seemed 

 to like to play with us in anything like an affec- 

 tionate way as Nob did. We turned them out 

 one day into the pasture, and an Indian, hiding 

 in the brush that had sprung up after the grass 

 fires had been kept out, managed to catch Nob, 

 tied a rope to her jaw for a bridle, rode her 

 to Green Lake, about thirty or forty miles 

 away, and tried to sell her for fifteen dollars. 

 All our hearts were sore, as if one of the family 

 had been lost. We hunted everywhere and 

 could not at first imagine what had become of 

 her. We discovered her track where the fence 

 was broken down, and, following it for a few 

 miles, made sure the track was Nob's; and a 

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