nd a bruised arm.

"I knew it!" said Farmer Perkins. "Knew it the minute I see them ears.
He's a vicious brute, that colt, but we'll tame him."

So four of them, variously armed with whips and pitchforks, went down to
the pasture and tried to drive Blue Blazes into a fence corner. But the
colt was not to be cornered. From one end of the pasture to the other he
raced. He had had enough of men for that day.

Next morning Farmer Perkins tried familiar strategy. Under his coat he
hid a stout halter and a heavy bull whip. Then, holding a grain measure
temptingly before him, he climbed the pasture fence.

In the measure were oats which he rattled seductively. Also he called
mildly and persuasively. Blue Blazes was suspicious. Four times he
allowed the farmer to come almost within reaching distance only to turn
and bolt with a snort of alarm just at the crucial moment. At last he
concluded that he must have just one taste of those oats.

"Come coltie, nice coltie," cooed the man in a strained but conciliating
voice.

Blue Blazes planted himself for a sudden whirl, stretched his neck as
far as possible and worked his upper lip inquiringly. The smell of the
oats lured him on. Hardly had he touched his nose to the grain before
the measure was dropped and he found himself roughly grabbed by the
forelock. In a moment he saw the hated straps and ropes. Before he could
break away the halter was around his neck and buckled firmly.

Farmer Perkins changed his tone: "Now, you damned ugly little brute,
I've got you! [Jerk] Blast your wicked hide! [Slash] You will, will you?
[Yank] I'll larn you!" [Slash.]

Man and colt were almost exhausted when the "lesson" was finished. It
left Blue Blazes ridged with welts, trembling, fright sickened. Never
again would he trust himself within reach of those men; no, not if they
offered him a whole bushel of oats.

But it was a notable victory. Vauntingly Farmer Perkins told how he had
haltered the vicious colt. He was unconscious that a pair of ripe
gooseberry eyes turned black with hate, that behind his broad back was
shaken a futile fist.

The harness-breaking of Blue Blazes was conducted on much the same plan
as his halter-taming, except that during the process he learned to use
his heels. One Olsen, who has since walked with a limp, can tell you
that.

Another feature of the harness-breaking came as an interruption to
further bull-whip play by Farmer Perkins. It was a highly melodrama