c rage; she would
rush at you with a wild scream of fury, and after striking at you with
her front hoofs, would wheel round like lightning, and dash her hind
legs in your face. The stoutest stockman declined to have anything
whatever to do with Star; the most experienced breaker "declined her,
with thanks;" generally adding a long bill for repairs of rack and
manger, and breaking tackle, and not unfrequently a hospital report of
maimed and wounded stablemen. Amateur horsemen of celebrity arrived at
the station to look at the beautiful fiend, and departed, saying they
would rather not have anything to say to her. At last, she was given
over in despair, to lead her own free life, never having endured the
indignity of bit or bridle for more than two minutes.

Months passed away, and Star and her tantrums had been nearly
forgotten, when one mild winter evening the stockman came in to report
that,--wonder of wonders,--Star was standing meekly outside, whinnying,
and as "quiet as a dog." Her master went out to find the man's report
exact: Star walked straight up to him, and rubbed her soft nose
confidingly against his sleeve. The mystery explained itself at a
glance: she was on the point of having her first foal, and, with some
strange and pathetic instinct, she bethought herself of the kind hands
whose caresses she had so often rejected, and came straight to them for
help and succour. Her shy and touching advances were warmly responded
to, and in a few minutes the poor beast was safely housed in the warm
shed which then represented the present row of neat stables long
since on that very spot. A warm mash was eagerly swallowed, and the
good-hearted stockman volunteered to remain up until all should be
happily over; but his courage failed him at the sight of her horrible
sufferings, and in the early dawn he came to rouse up his master, and
beg him to come and see if anything more could be done. There lay Star,
all her fierce spirit quenched, with an appealing look in her large
black eyes, which seemed positively human in their capacity for
expressing suffering. It was many hours before a dead foal was born, and
there is no doubt that if she had been out on the bleak hills, the poor
exhausted young mother must have perished from weakness. She appeared to
understand thoroughly the motive of all that was being done for her, and
submitted with patience to all the remedies. Gradually, but slowly,
her strength returned; and, alas, h