The Horse, as Comrade and Friend 



and, hang me ! if she didn't turn her head 

 round and scratch me back on the arm. I 

 started in amazement, for it was one of the 

 most curious experiences I had met with in 

 a somewhat variegated Hfe. I did it again and 

 again ; and every time I scratched her wither 

 and shoulder, she scratched back ! To a 

 knock-down fact of this kind there is no gain- 

 saying, and, as the French say, it gave me 

 furiously to think. I did not know then as 

 much as I do now about the arrival of foals, 

 and, when she commenced the struggle to rise 

 and kept falling back, I took compassion on 

 her weakness and helped her to get up. I did 

 a great deal for her, which later I learnt to 

 watch, with spell-bound interest, other foals 

 doing for themselves. I helped her to stand 

 up and balance herself and then to make a 

 step or two forward. This took me quite a 

 while, and the mare, when she began to get 

 better and able to notice things, kept a watch- 

 ful eye on all these proceedings. The energy 

 this little beast expended in its continual efforts 

 to get up was surprising and I had to let it lie 

 down a time or two to rest, when the mutual 

 scratchings were repeated with increasing 

 ardour. It was a great time, and I don't 

 know who enjoyed the fun the more, the foal 

 or I. 



After a while, I got her so that she retained 

 her balance quite nicely standing ; but she was 



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