THE FIRST HORSE. 11 



"What memory I have left runs back to Z . 



What I know of prior to that was told me later in life 

 and the first stop is punctuated with a horse." 



"I knew it, I knew it," growled the husky one while 

 the balance silenced him with a genial 'dry up,' a 

 term a trifle out of place in that party, thinks I. With- 

 out noticing the interruption, the siory teller pro- 

 ceeded. 



"At the time I was between two and three years of 

 age. The horse was a little brown mare that my 

 father drove in his business, and while she did not 

 have any speed, she was all that could be asked for. 

 When I shut my eyes I can see her now, smooth made 

 with a short neck, heavy mane, pointed ears and a 

 playful toss of the head when you spoke to her. That 

 old mare and I were friends, boys, and when they laid 

 her away under the sod, as the governor said no dog 

 should ever pick her bones, I cried like a baby. For 

 our business she would not be worth thirty cents ex- 

 cept to pull the traps from the track to the cars, but 

 with all your worldly ways and wise looks I reckon 

 each of you had a first horse if you only take a little 

 time to think of it. 



"The next horses that I recall appeared on a placard 

 advertising a condition powder or something of that 

 sort. It was nailed to a post in the village grocery 

 and as I with the other boys dodged in and out to ex- 

 change pennies for candies and marbles, I in time 

 learned that the names of three of them — there were 

 five in the group — were Flora Temple, the switch 

 tailed queen of the trotters, Dexter, the white legged 

 champion, and the old war horse, General Butler. 



