t against him, and I began
to kick, and plunge, and rear as I had never done before, and we had a
regular fight; for a long time he stuck to the saddle and punished me
cruelly with his whip and spurs, but my blood was thoroughly up, and I
cared for nothing he could do if only I could get him off. At last after
a terrible struggle I threw him off backward. I heard him fall heavily
on the turf, and without looking behind me, I galloped off to the other
end of the field; there I turned round and saw my persecutor slowly
rising from the ground and going into the stable. I stood under an oak
tree and watched, but no one came to catch me. The time went on, and the
sun was very hot; the flies swarmed round me and settled on my bleeding
flanks where the spurs had dug in. I felt hungry, for I had not eaten
since the early morning, but there was not enough grass in that meadow
for a goose to live on. I wanted to lie down and rest, but with the
saddle strapped tightly on there was no comfort, and there was not a
drop of water to drink. The afternoon wore on, and the sun got low. I
saw the other colts led in, and I knew they were having a good feed.

"At last, just as the sun went down, I saw the old master come out with
a sieve in his hand. He was a very fine old gentleman with quite white
hair, but his voice was what I should know him by among a thousand. It
was not high, nor yet low, but full, and clear, and kind, and when
he gave orders it was so steady and decided that every one knew, both
horses and men, that he expected to be obeyed. He came quietly along,
now and then shaking the oats about that he had in the sieve, and
speaking cheerfully and gently to me: 'Come along, lassie, come along,
lassie; come along, come along.' I stood still and let him come up; he
held the oats to me, and I began to eat without fear; his voice took all
my fear away. He stood by, patting and stroking me while I was eating,
and seeing the clots of blood on my side he seemed very vexed. 'Poor
lassie! it was a bad business, a bad business;' then he quietly took the
rein and led me to the stable; just at the door stood Samson. I laid my
ears back and snapped at him. 'Stand back,' said the master, 'and keep
out of her way; you've done a bad day's work for this filly.' He growled
out something about a vicious brute. 'Hark ye,' said the father, 'a
bad-tempered man will never make a good-tempered horse. You've not
learned your trade yet, Samson.' Then he