108 A WORD FROM HARRIET. 



He was a beautiful horse in his youth. His long tail 

 added much to his beauty, and was a sure defense against 

 tormenting flies. A rich man in the city bought him to 

 match another horse, and the two were attached to the 

 family carriage. 



The tail was cut off, because, strangely enough, the bob- 

 tail, cut square, was more pleasing to the owner than the 

 tail given by nature. That was the reason why the tail was 

 docked, but the owner excused the docking by saying that 

 the horse would hold the rein under the tail and thus im- 

 peril the lives of those who rode. 



The horse did not at first miss his tail brush, for he was a 

 rich man's horse and wore a net in summer; he was care- 

 fully groomed and kept in good condition. But occasionally 

 his owner drove the horse to his box buggy, and, as he was 

 a hard driver, he was overdriven, spoiled, and of course sold. 



The horse then came into the possession of a grocer who 

 had some compassion and provided a net to keep off the 

 flies. But at length the horse becomes too slow for the 

 grocer, and then began the downward road that ends always 

 in misery and torture. 



Last summer this horse was seen attached to a fruit 

 hawker's dilapidated wagon. It was a hot day, and the 

 horse was standing in front of a fruit store while the owner 

 was within buying his stock in trade. A more pitiable horse- 

 sight was never seen. The flies swarmed around him and 

 drove him nearly frantic; he twisted, kicked, turned and 

 bit himself till the blood had started. There was a fresh 

 bruise on one hip on which the flies settled, the short hair 

 of the tail was not long enough to reach this, and he was 

 robbed of all defense. 



The horse was little more than skin and bone, but he may 

 have had food enough. His condition might be due to this 



