320 A YANKEE TRADE. 



There were a number of sheds and stables in the 

 rear of Peter Pointdexter's home on Clark Street. In 

 order to make the circuit a stranger required a chart, 

 but the stock on the place carried the plan in their 

 heads and knew the routes from the yard to the water 

 trough and to their respective stalls like animals in a 

 circus. When Peter, all smiles, drove into the yard 

 the horse swung around and backed the wagon under 

 the shed without so much as being guided by the 

 reins. As Peter told the story, this made him open 

 his eyes, but when he unhitched and the new horse 

 walked up an alley to the water trough and then 

 wheeled around and made a bee line for a stall, he 

 took out his spectacles and polished them. Even 

 then he could not understand it, but his mind was 

 made clear the following morning, when the stable- 

 man asked him why he had traded for the old horse. 

 All Hartford and Windsor had a good laugh over it, 

 and it was many a day before Peter Pointdexter, if 

 that was his name, heard the last of his $125 invest- 

 ment in his own horse. 



