<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.</SPAN></h2>
<p>That morning my master stopped first at a farmhouse
where everything betokened plenty, but not thrift.
A man was slopping hogs. The latter were in a small inclosure,
wading in mud almost up to their bodies. How
hungry they seemed, and how vigorously he dealt blows
right and left, with a club he carried!</p>
<p>The low troughs were one-third full of mud, and into
these he poured the swill.</p>
<p>"Dear me," I thought, "they can never eat it," but they
did; that is, some of them. A few of the weaker ones were
crowded back and got nothing.</p>
<p>Often in passing that place in winter, I have noticed that
in feeding cattle, the fodder was thrown on the ground to
be pawed over, stamped in, and the greater part of it
wasted. The cattle here were thin-looking in the spring,
with apparently no ambition but to find a tree or rail
against which to rub. I was not surprised when I heard
that that man had mortgaged his farm.</p>
<p>Toward noon of the day first mentioned we drove into a
farmyard where a boy unhitched me and turned me into a
nice pasture. There were several horses and cows beside.
One of the latter ran ceaselessly from side to side of the inclosure,
calling piteously. No need to inquire her trouble;
one look into her dark, pleading eyes and any one could
recognize a sorrowing mother. One of the horses told me
that it had been just that way for almost a week; that day
and night it was the same. Said he: "She has not eaten a
mouthful since her little one disappeared. You see they
let it run with her until it was seven or eight weeks old.
She was so proud of it; and an uncommonly cunning calf it
was. They were always together; but one day some men
came and drove it away and she has been almost crazy ever
since."</p>
<p>Just then the poor animal passed near us in the endless
circuit, and such a look of agony and entreaty as she wore!
Presently a man came to the bars; straight she rushed
toward him, bellowing piteously. Of course, he passed indifferently<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</SPAN></span>
by, and then, turning, she walked to a little clump
of trees.</p>
<p>"See!" said my companion; "she will stop under that
oak at this corner; there is where she used often to lie with
the calf." And sure enough she paused there, smelling the
ground over and calling in a low tone; then down on her
knees she went, laying the side of her face against the sod
and moaning and crying as any human mother would. Oh,
it was pitiful, pitiful!</p>
<p>"One has to stand a good deal like that in this world,"
the big roan said, turning his face away, "and yet people
think we dumb creatures have no feeling. I wish we
hadn't. A while ago, the family let another cow and calf
run together in the same way, and then butchered the little
creature right before its mother's eyes. She has never been
the same since; doesn't eat, and her milk isn't good. Poisoned
with the grief and fretting, but the folks don't understand."</p>
<p>Another day I was grazing in the pasture of one of
Master's patients, when I noticed a cow standing in the
shade of a tree contentedly chewing her cud.</p>
<p>"A happy looking creature," I remarked to the old family
horse, who was quietly grazing away his days.</p>
<p>"Yes," he said, with a smile. And right here let me say
horses do smile. "She thinks her calf is over on the other
side of that high board fence, in the calf pasture, while in
reality it was sold a week ago. You see our master is a
merciful man; he separates the mothers from their young
almost from the first. For a while he lets the calf through
a door in the wall, to its mother, three or four times a day,
then twice, and finally not at all; but all the while each is
content, because they believe the other is right there. The
cow is not worried, and gives down her milk bountifully;
the calf is content and thrives. My master is not only merciful,
but shrewd."</p>
<p>"And you seem to have an easy time," I suggested.</p>
<p>"Easy, to be sure. He says I have done hard work
enough to retire, and have earned money enough for him
that he can afford to keep me on the interest of it."</p>
<p>One event of interest, to part at least of the Wallace<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</SPAN></span>
family, I have not mentioned. It was when we had been at
M—— about a year. Grim had been down street with the
boys, and on reaching the gateway of home he fell in a fit.
Master and I had just driven up. Mrs. Wallace, from the
piazza, gave a cry and began to scream, "Mad dog." Poor
Grim, coming out of it, rolled his eyes piteously from one to
another. With a desperate struggle he regained his feet
and attempted to walk, but his back gave way and before
the doctor could reach Grim he lay writhing in another
spasm. Mrs. Wallace screamed the louder from a safe
place inside the door; and Master, speaking rougher than I
ever heard him speak to her before, bade her be still, adding
that the poor fellow had been poisoned.</p>
<p>"Bring me a bottle of sweet oil from the office," he commanded
Park, "and be quick about it."</p>
<p>Grim was coming out of the fourth fit when the oil came,
and among them they managed to pour a gill or so down his
throat. He had ever so many more spasms, but finally got
better; that is, he did not die then, but never got well; just
pined away and finally died.</p>
<p>By this means we became aware that M—— had a cat
and dog poisoner; "a man too mean to live and too wicked
to die," the neighbors said of him.</p>
<p>Many handsomer and more valuable dogs than dear old
Grim fell a victim to his rascality, but few were more sincerely
mourned. So officious was this individual that it
was nothing uncommon to see little girls bending their curly
heads over pet kittens stiff as death, or ladies wringing
their hands in agony over the sufferings of some canine or
feline pet.</p>
<p>And the sufferings of the latter were terrible to witness.</p>
<p>But I have heard say that every town has one man in it
so far lost to human decency that he assumes the right to
thus torture other people's pets.</p>
<p>Master says there is nothing uncertain about the future
of such men. I don't quite know what he means, do you?</p>
<p>Minnie Winters professed to be "not over strong"—these
were Mrs. Wallace's words—and the latter frequently
asked Dr. Dick to let her sister go with us when we were
out for short drives. He could hardly refuse. Of course, I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</SPAN></span>
heard every word of their conversations and noticed how
commonplace all the doctor's remarks were, and how
adroitly he parried all sentimental or even personal allusion
on his companion's part; but nevertheless I was uneasy. I
did not think so badly of Minnie, but Mrs. Wallace I believed
capable of any treachery.</p>
<p>After a while I remarked that all the men and boys about
the livery stable smiled significantly when my master came
in; and by and by, when he was out, I heard them saying
among themselves that he was going to marry Miss
Winters.</p>
<p>Remembering the past as I did, I was sure they were mistaken;
but still the way Dr. Fred had done had somewhat
shaken my confidence in men. Indeed, I worried not a little,
and one day when my master announced that he was
going to Chicago for some weeks, I could not decide whether
the move meant bad or ill. The last thing before starting
he caressed me and whispered loving words in my ear.
Surely he could not do that, I thought, if he were untrue.</p>
<p>It seemed a different world to me when he was gone. Mrs.
Wallace and her sister used me continually, and I had no
idea that women could be such merciless creatures.</p>
<p>They demanded that I trot all the time, up hill and down,
and then kept up a continual nagging that made me quite
frantic. My mouth was all sore and chafed from the ceaseless
jerking and slashing of my back with the lines; and, no
matter how strictly I obeyed them, it was all wrong.</p>
<p>Part of the time they rode on my back. The saddle did
not fit me, and there was a rough place inside that wore a
sore. Nobody noticed this, though; in fact, I was scarcely
curried or rubbed at all. Every time the saddle went on my
back I grew worse, until one day the pain became unendurable
and I ran away.</p>
<p>Think of me, Dandy, running away! I left Miss Minnie
in a heap by a roadside, but on I went, that wretched saddle
tearing deeper into me every moment.</p>
<p>Somebody saw me, and called out:</p>
<p>"Dr. Dick's Dandy running away, as I live!"</p>
<p>This seemed to bring me to my senses, and when they
yelled, "Whoa," I stopped. I was all of a tremble. They<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</SPAN></span>
led me back till they came to Minnie, crying by the roadside
and rearranging her hair. At first she refused to get into
the saddle again, and I hoped she'd hold out, but she didn't,
and I had all I could do to keep from running again, her
weight hurt that sore so.</p>
<p>The next day we went again, with Park on Prince for escort.
The saddle hurt as badly as before—worse, I guess—and
presently, when they undertook a race, the torture was
too much, and I reared, throwing my lady off again. Park
caught the bridle with a jerk that almost threw me to the
ground, and while I was recovering myself he slid from his
horse. Tying the latter by the roadside, he removed the
saddle, and proceeded to give me the dreadfulest whipping,
with the whip he carried.</p>
<p>I had never been really whipped before in my life, and I
scarcely know which hurt me the worst, the lash or the injustice
and humiliation; probably the lash, though, for it cut
mercilessly into the sore.</p>
<p>Suddenly Minnie screamed:</p>
<p>"Don't, don't, Park; just see the blood! Oh, what will
the doctor say?"</p>
<p>But the young man was mad, I suppose; anyway he
thrashed away until he was tired.</p>
<p>Sobbing hysterically, Minnie wiped the blood from my
back with her handkerchief, and refused to mount again.
They had a quarrel, but I was too faint and sore to pay much
attention.</p>
<p>And to think I could never tell my Master one word about
it. That was four days before he came home, and I was not
out of the stable again.</p>
<p>Dr. Fred came in the morning after my whipping, examined
my back and swore frightfully. Said he'd a notion to
horsewhip Park, and promised him his dismissal when
Master came home. It all tended to make the fellow ugly,
and every one of the Wallace horses have cause to remember
those four days. They seemed a veritable reign of terror.</p>
<p>All the while he was putting something on my back that
smarted it dreadfully.</p>
<p>Of course, Dr. Dick visited my stall the first thing. I laid
my head on his shoulder and could have cried with relief.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</SPAN></span>
The moment he moved away I would recall him with a whinny,
and he finally led me out with his own hands for some
water.</p>
<p>That spot on my back was the first thing to catch his eye
in the perfect light, but Park was ready with a plausible
story about Minnie trying a side-saddle on me "just because
I needed exercise," and it rubbed my back.</p>
<p>That was all. I never heard any more about it, except that
Master pitied and petted me even more than before. Thinking
of the thousands upon thousands of poor creatures that
are abused much worse every day, and never receive a kind
word or pat, I felt that my lines were cast in pleasant places.</p>
<p>Anyway I never heard any more about Master marrying
Miss Winters, and after awhile she went away.</p>
<p>Just prior to this last event, she and Mrs. Wallace drove
out with me, and I heard the former say: "I hate Dandy,
I believe I am jealous of him."</p>
<p>Such a pretty dapple gray was brought into the barn one
night, her back one mass of ridges made by a whip.</p>
<p>"What a shame!" one of the stable men said, "and she's
a willing piece of horseflesh too."</p>
<p>"Yes," said another, "but some fellows think it looks big
to whip like that; shows their power and importance."</p>
<p>"Shows they're —— fools!"</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</SPAN></span></p>
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