k you. He was of a bright sorrel color, and he had a brand on one
haunch.

My boy had an ideal of a pony, conceived from pictures in his
reading-books at school, that held its head high and arched its neck,
and he strove by means of checks and martingales to make this real pony
conform to the illustrations. But it was of no use; the real pony held
his neck straight out like a ewe, or, if reined up, like a camel, and he
hung his big head at the end of it with no regard whatever for the
ideal. His caparison was another mortification and failure. What the boy
wanted was an English saddle, embroidered on the morocco seat in crimson
silk, and furnished with shining steel stirrups. What he had was the
framework of a Mexican saddle, covered with rawhide, and cushioned with
a blanket; the stirrups were Mexican, too, and clumsily fashioned out of
wood. The boys were always talking about getting their father to get
them a pad, but they never did it, and they managed as they could with
the saddle they had. For the most part they preferred to ride the pony
barebacked, for then they could ride him double, and when they first
got him they all wanted to ride him so much that they had to ride him
double. They kept him going the whole day long; but after a while they
calmed down enough to take him one at a time, and to let him have a
chance for his meals.

They had no regular stable, and the father left the boys to fit part of
the cow-shed up for the pony, which they did by throwing part of the
hen-coop open into it. The pigeon-cots were just over his head, and he
never could have complained of being lonesome. At first everybody wanted
to feed him as well as ride him, and if he had been allowed time for it
he might have eaten himself to death, or if he had not always tried to
bite you or kick you when you came in with his corn. After a while the
boys got so they forgot him, and nobody wanted to go out and feed the
pony, especially after dark; but he knew how to take care of himself,
and when he had eaten up everything there was in the cow-shed he would
break out and eat up everything there was in the yard.

The boys got lots of good out of him. When you were once on his back you
were pretty safe, for he was so lazy that he would not think of running
away, and there was no danger unless he bounced you off when he trotted;
he had a hard trot. The boys wanted to ride him standing up, like
circus-actors, and the pony did not mind, but the