i 4 THE MORGAN HORSE 



Johnsbury the following morning on its last trip of the season. This being 

 the route we proposed to take, we engaged our seats, and the following 

 morning about nine o'clock, six good-sized individuals (besides the driver), 

 with our baggage, were stowed away in a snug, rugged-looking stage wagon, 

 to which was attached a pair of horses of medium size. The near horse was 

 of deep chestnut color, about fourteen and a half hands high, very closely and 

 compactly made, with clean, small head, and exceedingly small ears set pretty 

 wide apart, but very lively and active. The other animal was a gray mare of about 

 the same weight, but at least half a hand higher. She had a fine long hip and 

 a good hind leg, her shoulders were well-shaped, better at the withers than 

 the horse, and she was on the whole a very fair animal, although her general 

 muscular development was decidedly inferior to that of her mate. We all 

 objected to starting with so small a team over the hilly country we knew 

 we had to cross ; but these remonstrances availing nothing, my companion 

 and I, who occupied the front seat, fell to discussing the chances of getting 

 on with our ' infant team', as he called it, and from this to discussing the rel- 

 ative merits of our nags. The mare was restive, eager and impatient, and 

 my friend declared with great confidence that all that horse-flesh of her di- 

 mensions could do, she would. My own fancy had been taken by the full, 

 brilliant, but pleasant eyes, that stood out large and full, the ever-restless ears, 

 and the strong muscular loins and quarters of the chestnut. Accordingly I 

 proposed to 'back the horse', much to the amusement of most of the party. 

 Our driver, after several ' false starts ' from the bar-room, finally took up the 

 reins and gave them the word. The mare dashed ahead as if she would pull 

 the driver from his seat. The horse struck out with a short, nervous step, but 

 did not seem much inclined to pull, or move at any but a moderate pace. 

 The mare took us along over the first half-mile almost entirely by the bit, and 

 my companions had a hearty laugh at my chestnut horse. A half hour 

 passed, and with it some five miles of our road. By this time ' bets were not 

 so freely offered on the mare' ; she had fallen off in her pace, perspired freely, 

 moved unsteadily, and every few moments gave her head a toss that plainly 

 told she was beginning to lose her relish for the work. The day was hot. 

 The horse had worked more freely as he grew warm, but not a muscle moved 

 save those of his ears which was not indispensably necessary to give him 

 motion. Thus we kept on for about twelve or fourteen miles to the end of 

 the first stage, the mare fully satisfied, and panting With heat and exertion. 

 Here we were to have a fresh team, but one of them being very lame, the driver 

 put in only one, and drove the chestnut through to St. Johnsbury. This 

 seemed pretty hard, but the horse did not appear to mind it in the least, and 

 up the long hill as we entered St. Johnsbury he pressed on at the same short, 

 nervous trot he had kept almost the entire way. As we stepped out at the 

 hotel we all took a good look at him. His general appearance was that of a 

 horse about ten years old, but what was our surprise when, upon speaking of 



him to my friend Dr. S. , we learned that he was one of Sherman's 



sons, eighteen years old, and had been running constantly nearly eleven years 

 in a stage team. 



