thing! Master noticed the change, too, and one day when he got out of
the carriage and came to speak to us, as he often did, he stroked her
beautiful neck. Well, my pretty one, well, how do things go with you
now? You are a good bit happier than when you came to us, I think.
She put her nose up to him in a friendly, trustful way, while he rubbed
it gently.
We shall make a cure of her, John, he said.
Yes, sir, she's wonderfully improved; she's not the same creature that
she was; it's 'the Birtwick balls', sir, said John, laughing.
This was a little joke of John's; he used to say that a regular course
of the Birtwick horseballs would cure almost any vicious horse; these
balls, he said, were made up of patience and gentleness, firmness and
petting, one pound of each to be mixed up with half a pint of common
sense, and given to the horse every day.
09 Merrylegs
Mr. Blomefield, the vicar, had a large family of boys and girls;
sometimes they used to come and play with Miss Jessie and Flora. One
of the girls was as old as Miss Jessie; two of the boys were older, and
there were several little ones. When they came there was plenty of work
for Merrylegs, for nothing pleased them so much as getting on him by
turns and riding him all about the orchard and the home paddock, and
this they would do by the hour together.
One afternoon he had been out with them a long time, and when James
brought him in and put on his halter he said:
There, you rogue, mind how you behave yourself, or we shall get into
trouble.
What have you been doing, Merrylegs? I asked.
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