the saw-dust arena of a travelling circus. There was nothing short of
the three R's, reading, 'riting, and 'rithmetic, that Gypsy couldn't be
taught. The gift of speech was not hers, but the faculty of thought was.

My little friend, to be sure, was not exempt from certain graceful
weaknesses, inseparable, perhaps, from the female character. She was
very pretty, and she knew it. She was also passionately fond of dress--by
which I mean her best harness. When she had this on, her curvetings
and prancings were laughable, though in ordinary tackle she went along
demurely enough. There was something in the enamelled leather and the
silver-washed mountings that chimed with her artistic sense. To have her
mane braided, and a rose or a pansy stuck into her forelock, was to make
her too conceited for anything.

She had another trait not rare among her sex. She liked the attentions
of young gentlemen, while the society of girls bored her. She would drag
them, sulkily, in the cart; but as for permitting one of them in the
saddle, the idea was preposterous. Once when Pepper Whitcomb's sister,
in spite of our remonstrances, ventured to mount her, Gypsy gave a
little indignant neigh, and tossed the gentle Emma heels over head in no
time. But with any of the boys the mare was as docile as a lamb.

Her treatment of the several members of the family was comical. For the
Captain she entertained a wholesome respect, and was always on her good
behavior when he was around. As to Miss Abigail, Gypsy simply laughed at
her--literally laughed, contracting her upper lip and displaying all her
snow-white teeth, as if something about Miss Abigail struck her, Gypsy,
as being extremely ridiculous.

Kitty Collins, for some reason or another, was afraid of the pony, or
pretended to be. The sagacious little animal knew it, of course, and
frequently, when Kitty was banging out clothes near the stable, the mare
being loose in the yard, would make short plunges at her. Once Gypsy
seized the basket of clothespins with her teeth, and rising on her hind
legs, pawing the air with her fore feet followed Kitty clear up to the
scullery steps.

That part of the yard was shut off from the rest by a gate; but no gate
was proof against Gypsy's ingenuity. She could let down bars, lift up
latches, draw bolts, and turn all sorts of buttons. This accomplishment
rendered it hazardous for Miss Abigail or Kitty to leave any eatables on
the kitchen table near the window