iven them away, and that there should not be a speck of mud on his own
coat, which had to be neglected in more urgent cases. Father Orin used
to declare that Toby eyed him from top to toe when he knew they were
going to a wedding; and that if there were a spot on his cassock, or a
hole in it, Toby's eye never failed to find it. At such leisurely times
he was indeed so exacting as to his own proper appearance that he would
not budge until the last "witch's stirrup" had been combed out of his
mane and tail. He was only a degree less particular when he knew they
were going to the christening of an infant. It was then plainly Toby's
opinion that, while they might not take quite so much time to christen
as to marry, there was still no need to rush off with the priest's
vestments out of order and his own fetlocks weighted with mire. The two
had many friendly contests on these occasions, but Toby's will was the
stronger, and his temper was not quite so mild; and as it is always the
less amiable who wins, it was commonly he who won, in the long run.

Whenever the way before them was not quite clear, Father Orin would let
Toby lead, and only once in all their long pilgrimage together did he
ever fail to lead aright. It was on a wild winter's night, and neither
could see either heaven or earth; yet on against the bitter wind went
the priest and his horse, Toby stretching his fullest length at the top
of his speed, and Father Orin bending low to escape the boughs of unseen
trees; and thus they sped through the stormy blackness. Faster still
they went, up hill and down hill, leaping fallen trees, flying across
the hollows made by the uptorn roots, swimming swollen streams, while
the priest knelt on the saddle, holding the Viaticum high above the
rushing water which dashed over his knees. At last they stopped,
utterly exhausted, only to find that they were lost in the icy, dark
wilderness; and they went on groping blindly for any kind of shelter
under which to wait for the first glimmer of dawn. They finally came
upon a ruined cabin, and although the whole front of it was gone, some
of the roof and a part of the walls were left, and Father Orin led Toby
into the driest, corner. Taking off the wet saddle and the soaked,
half-frozen blanket, he laid them on the ground. He patted Toby as he
did this, and Toby's responsive whinny said it was all right, just as
plain as if he had been able to talk. But Father Orin was not quite
satisfied,