gly fortunate; for the moment any one but his master
attempted to govern his actions in any way, he became possessed with a
spirit that was sometimes more than mischievous. He would kick up, bite,
wheel suddenly around, rear up on his hind feet, and do almost every thing
except go ahead in an orderly way, as a respectable horse ought to have
done.

Ned was too great a favorite with his master for the latter to think of
trying very hard to correct him of these bad practices. He would talk to
him, sometimes, about the folly of an old horse like him prancing about,
and cutting up as many antics as a young colt; but his words, it was clear,
went into one of Ned's ears and out of the other, as people say, for Ned
did not in the least mend his manners, although he would nod his head in a
knowing and obedient way, while his master was talking to him.

Ned spent at least two thirds of his time, from the period when the grass
sprung up, tender and green, until it became pale and crisp with frost, in
a three-acre field belonging to his master, where he ate, walked about,
rolled himself on the soft sward, or slept away the hours, as happy as a
horse could be. Across one corner of this field a little boy and his sister
used every day to go to school. The little boy was a namesake of the horse;
but he was usually called Neddy. One day Neddy felt rather mischievous, as
little boys will feel sometimes. He had a long willow switch in his hand,
and was cutting away at every thing that came within his reach. He
frightened a brood of chickens, and laughed merrily to see them scamper in
every direction; he made an old hog grunt, and a little pig squeal, and was
even so thoughtless as to strike with his slender switch a little lamb,
that lay close beside its mother on the soft grass.

"Don't, don't, Neddy," Jane, his sister, would say.

But the little fellow gave no heed to her words. At last, in crossing the
field, they came to where the old horse lay under the shade of a great
walnut tree. The temptation to let him have a taste of the switch was too
strong for Neddy to resist; so he passed up close to the horse, and gave
him a smart cut across the shoulders.

Now that was an indignity to which the old fellow was not prepared to
submit. Why, it was at least ten years since the stroke of a whip had been
felt upon his glossy skin. Whip and spur were of the times long since gone
by. Springing up as quickly as if he were only a colt instead