Life on a Wisconsin Farm 



terrible cruelty, for when I was riding her 

 through the pasture several years afterward, 

 looking for another horse that we wanted to 

 catch, as we approached the place where she 

 had been captured she stood stock still gazing 

 through the bushes, fearing the Indian might 

 still be hiding there ready to spring; and she 

 was so excited that she trembled, and her 

 heartbeats were so loud that I could hear them 

 distinctly as I sat on her back, hoomp, boomp, 

 boomp, like the drumming of a partridge. 

 So vividly had she remembered her terrible 

 experiences. 



She was a great pet and favorite with the 

 whole family, quickly learned playful tricks, 

 came running when we called, seemed to know 

 everything we said to her, and had the utmost 

 confidence in our friendly kindness. 



We used to cut and shock and husk the 

 Indian com in the fall, until a keen Yankee 

 stopped overnight at our house and among 

 other labor-saving notions convinced father 

 that it was better to let it stand, and husk it 

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