THE horse's rescue. 103 



we left him the night before. His owner was with 

 him, and looked worried. He had a keg with a swab 

 in it, and was daubing his feet. I walked in. I felt 

 .sorry for him and his horse. Said I, "What is that 

 staff you are putting on?" 



"It is tar, keroSene, and soft-soap." 



" Mr. Brees, it is of no use. You had better give 

 me eight dollars. Your uncle cannot steal this great 

 discovery. (I know not whether he was his uncle or 

 not, but their names were Brees.) The principle is 

 what I want to lay down correct in this work. They 

 had disabled this horse completely by throwing him 

 off his base, cutting his beds down. They had 

 lengthened the lever so much it had sprung his back 

 down and thrown nearly all of his weight back of cen- 

 ter. There he was fastened, and was obliged to stay. 

 They knew no way out of this serious trouble. I 

 would have helped them out, but they would not take 

 any lessons. This was early in the fall. The horse 

 was missins:, and I lost track of him for a long time. 

 I think it was in the month of March following that I 

 saw Mr. Brees doing his chores at his barn. I went 

 in. There lay this Buckskin horse. I asked, "Has 

 this horse been lying in this condition all of this 

 time?" 



"Yes." 



" Does he stand up?" 



" He can, but lies down nearly all of the time." 



" Are those the shoes you had put on last fall ?" 



''Yes." 



" Have they ever been reset since ?" 



"No." 



