always go to horse shows to look at horses. Jimmy forgot
all about chocolates. Unconsciously he relapsed to his habitual self,
and, inasmuch as most any one who is unassuming and entirely natural is
entertaining, seemed to keep his companion happy.

"I like it all," she said, in an interval. "I like to look at those in
the boxes who came here for nothing else than to be looked at. It makes
them happy to see others looking at them. I suppose they must feel for
the moment that they are as good as the horses. Some people will make
mistakes of that sort, you know, and never learn the truth. And I like
the horses for themselves. They are so unlike. So like people. Some of
them are shy, some of them nervous, some of them conceited, and others
are as self-satisfied as if already they had won the blue ribbons.
Funny, isn't it, that I never suspected that you had any interest at all
in them?"

"Well, you see," said Jimmy. "We never had much of a chance to
understand really what either of us enjoys or dislikes before we met
here. It makes a lot of difference when, how and where people meet. I
suppose you'll laugh if I tell you when I first fell in love, because it
was with a horse. Honestly, it was! I'm in earnest about it. Things
didn't come any too easy around our house--I mean Maw's and mine--after
my father died. Somehow his death sort of changed me from a boy into a
man, and,--well, I just couldn't think of enough ways to keep her from
wanting anything. I felt as if I'd have to be a man big enough to fill
my father's place and to take care of her. There wasn't a way to make a
penny that I didn't consider just on her account. And I got a job after
school hours delivering stuff for a grocery store, down in our town. I
had to care for and drive a poor old feller with the string halt, and
spavins, and I used to wonder why I couldn't get his tail to grow
longer. Honestly, I thought all horses' tails were about eight inches
long until an old horse trader looked my friend over one day and said,
'Hello! That nag's been docked sometime! He didn't always pull a grocery
cart. Shouldn't wonder if there'd been some class and pedigree to him
sometime.' Then he had the impertinence to stick his dirty fingers into
my friend's mouth and hoist his upper lip and say, 'Methusalem was old,
but this plug could make him look like a suckling,' I remember that I
was angry, and that I wished that my friend had bitten him. I'd have
done it myself if