The Horse, as Comrade and Friend 



that I had the wit to understand and answer 

 that appeal so that I spent those last three 

 hours with her, soothing and petting her. I 

 sat on the straw and she lay with her head on 

 my lap — licking my fingers. She kept her 

 gaze on me the whole time, and I can never 

 forget the love-light and sweet expression of 

 her eyes. Every now and then she gave me 

 her little neigh. Towards the end I think she 

 could not see me very well, for she strained to 

 look at me. As I stroked her I felt she was 

 getting colder and colder. I kissed her and 

 spoke to her as I would to a dying child, and 

 she opened her eyes to try to see me and gave 

 me that little neigh once or twice more. All 

 the while she kept licking my fingers — slower 

 and slower — and when the last little shudder 

 came she was still trying to lick them and her 

 tongue remained touching my hand. And so 

 her dear spirit fled. 



And whither ? 



238 



