314 OLD BILL. 



long plate to swing around. As the horse stumbled 

 forward, the projecting portion of the sill struck him 

 and knocked him down. Carey dodged under the 

 plate like a flash and unhooked the chain, but he could 

 not get the horse out. The blow had stunned him, 

 and before he could be moved the shed was down on 

 top of him. The neighbors pulled the logs away in 

 the faint hope of saving Old Bill. They hoped in 

 vain. He was dead. The last I saw of Carey he was 

 sitting on the grass with Old Bill's head in his lap. 

 The tears were running down his sunburnt cheeks, 

 while the neighbors busied themselves in digging a 

 grave near the spot where the old horse fell. I turned 

 away and left the place, as "when strong men weep" — 

 well, you know what happens. 



