Life on a Wisconsin Farm 



ous transportation, I cried, "Whoa, Jack!" 

 The wonderful creature seemed to understand 

 Scotch, for he stopped so suddenly I flew over 

 his head, but he stood perfectly still as if that 

 flying method of dismounting were the regular 

 way. Jumping on again, I bumped and bobbed 

 back along the grassy, flowery track, over the 

 Indian mound, cried, "Whoa, Jack!" flew over 

 his head, and alighted in father's arms as 

 gracefully as if it were all intended for circus 

 work. 



After going over the course five or six 

 times in the same free, picturesque style, I 

 gave place to brother David, whose perform- 

 ances were much like my own. In a few weeks, 

 however, or a month, we were taking adventur- 

 ous rides more than a mile long out to a big 

 meadow frequented by sandhill cranes, and 

 returning safely with wonderful stories of the 

 great long-legged birds we had seen, and how 

 on the whole journey away and back we had 

 fallen off only five or six times. Gradually we 

 learned to gallop through the woods without 

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