eft, who ate with him. Perceiving his infirmity, they drew the hay
out of his rack, chewed it, and then put it before their aged comrade.
They prepared his oats for him in the same way."

"I like those horses, they were so kind," urged Minnie. "I hope, uncle,
you have a great many stories as good as that."

The gentleman smiled archly, and then proceeded.

"The island of Krutsand, which is formed by two branches of the Elbe,
is frequently laid under water, during the time of the spring tides. In
the early part of the year 1794, the water one day rose so rapidly that
the horses, which were grazing in the plain with their colts, suddenly
found themselves standing in deep water; upon which they all set up a
loud neighing, and collected themselves as closely together as
possible.

"They now seemed to consult together what measures to take to save the
colts, that were standing up to the belly in the flood, and soon
determined upon a singular course, when some old mares, which had no
colts, assisted them in carrying it out.

"The method they adopted was this: Every two horses took a colt between
them, and pressing their sides together, kept it wedged in and lifted
quite above the surface of the water.

"All the horned cattle in the vicinity had already set themselves
afloat, and were swimming in regular columns toward their homes. But
these noble mares, with wonderful perseverance, remained immovable under
their cherished burden for the space of six hours, till, the tide
ebbing, the water subsided, and the colts were out of danger."

"The inhabitants, who had rowed to the place in boats, viewed with
delight this singular manoeuvre, whereby their valuable colts were saved
from destruction."

"How very curious!" exclaimed Minnie, gravely; "but I don't see how they
could get the colts up in their places without some one to lift them."

The gentleman laughed as he assured her that mares who were intelligent
enough to make such a plan could easily manage that part. "Do you
suppose," he asked, "that your pony understands any thing you say to him
more than the tones of your voice?"

"O, no, uncle!"

"And yet," he said, "a true blood horse, when at liberty, when two or
more persons are conversing, will approach and seem to listen to the
conversation. Even the common farm horse is quite obedient to the call
of his own name, and will not stir, when desired to stand, until his own
name is pronounced.

"They have a kind of