<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.</SPAN></h2>
<p>One autumn Master determined to "go West." Why
he went I do not know, but he was to stay "some
months," they said. How I did hope he would take
me along, but he did not.</p>
<p>"Be kind to Dandy," was his parting injunction, as usual,
to Herman, the man who had succeeded Park Winters as
hostler.</p>
<p>Of course, I did not know what going West means, and
could not think that "some months" were longer than the
time he had spent in Chicago.</p>
<p>The morning he started he came into my stall and talked
to me a long while. Among other things he said: "Be a
good boy, Dandy, and when I come home we'll go and live at
the farm—you and I."</p>
<p>I did miss him so! The days were all dreary, and I
dreaded to go to sleep at night, because I would be obliged
to awake to a fresh sense of my loss.</p>
<p>I cannot begin to give all my experience during his absence,
but will note a few instances. Of a truth, I realized
as never before what it is to be a horse.</p>
<p>Dr. and Mrs. Wallace were not a happy couple. The latter
was less outspoken than in the early days of her married
life, but she was equally as self-willed, only more cunning
and underhanded about it. Fred drank all the time, but
people could not ordinarily tell when he was intoxicated.
The barn boys said he could "carry a good deal."</p>
<p>The two boys, Chet and Carm, were wild and lawless.
The former was smart and a great student, though. Poor
Carm, better but weaker, was always in disgrace. His
teacher and father called him a "numbskull," and gradually
the latter came to indulge Chet in everything and deny Carm
just as prodigally.</p>
<p>There were two other children in the house now—Tommy
and Elizabeth, or "Bobby," as the little girl called herself,
and others fell into the habit.</p>
<p>I liked Bobby from the time Master first held the little
yellow-haired creature on my back, for a ride; and she always<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</SPAN></span>
clapped her little hands on seeing me, and cried,
"Dandy! Dandy!"</p>
<p>I liked her for herself, and also because Dr. Dick loved her.
It did me good to know that he had this little child to pet
and think about.</p>
<p>Things went well enough for a week or so after Master
left, then Chet began to drive me.</p>
<p>Sometimes when the doctor would use me for a long drive
in the day, soon after dark, while I was yet eating my supper,
the boy, with some companion, would come into the
barn and put my harness on. Herman would object, and
there would be a fuss between them, always ending in my
being hitched in a buggy or road-cart and driven out.</p>
<p>It was the second time that this occurred that I discovered
that Chet was under the influence of liquor, as was also his
companion, and they carried bottles with them. Chet used
the whip freely, and I went as fast as I could; but the
oftener they touched those bottles the harder they drove.
After what seemed to me hours of agony, they pulled up before
a brilliantly lighted old building out in the country,
hitched me and staggered in.</p>
<p>The wind was raw and cold, and the sweat pouring off
me. I surely thought Chet would remember my blanket,
but he didn't, and there I had to stand one, two, three, four
or more dreadful hours. Long before they came out I was
alternately chilling and burning. I ached and trembled.</p>
<p>They drove home as fast as they came, whipping nearly
all the way, though I was doing my best.</p>
<p>Herman swore profusely (people did not do that around
the barn when Master was home) as he rubbed me down
rapidly with a coarse cloth before blanketing me closely.</p>
<p>How I felt!</p>
<p>And thirsty—it did seem I must have water or choke, but
he gave me none for some reason.</p>
<p>By morning I was so stiff I could scarcely move, my breath
was short and came hard, and my skin was hot.</p>
<p>Dr. Fred ordered me early.</p>
<p>"I don't think Dandy is able to go out, sir, to-day," Herman
replied. "The young gentlemen had him out all night
almost, and he is all stiffened up."</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Dr. Fred muttered something and ordered out the bays,
calling out to Herman, as he drove off, to get Dr. Dick's
box of horse medicine and give me aconite—two-drop doses
of the tincture every two hours—until the fever was gone;
then to alternate bryonia, and thus according to directions
given in the book with the box.</p>
<p>I noticed that I began to feel better pretty soon, and by
afternoon Mrs. Wallace said she wanted me hitched up.
Herman demurred, but had to finally give in. I was as stiff
as ever when I got home again.</p>
<p>That very night Chet harnessed me again, despite Herman's
angry protest, and drove me ten miles. If only he
had taken the trouble to look in my eyes, I am sure he must
have seen how wretched I felt. This time he carelessly
threw a blanket over me, but did not buckle it over my chest,
and in a little while the wind had blown it half off me. It
would have been entirely off—and it might as well have
been—but for a corner catching on the top of the collar.
That time gray was showing in the east before he started
for home.</p>
<p>With vile, profane words he bade me "Get up," emphasizing
by stinging blows of the whip, saying to his companion
that he must make the ten miles before his father was up.</p>
<p>I suppose no man was ever compelled to stand tied to a
post all night; if there had, he would surely be going up
and down the earth preaching mercy and justice to those
who have the power over horses.</p>
<p>Another thing that made that night especially wearing was
the fact that I was tied short, and my front feet were much
lower than my back ones. Such a strain as I was on!</p>
<p>It does seem that horses deserve the little consideration
necessary to tie them in a decent spot. I have heard many
of my kind speak of this matter. In some villages the hitching
places along the sidewalks are most uncomfortable, the
animals being obliged to stand on a twist, ofttimes with the
front feet lower and in a mud puddle.</p>
<p>Is it any wonder we sometimes protest by vigorously pawing
the sidewalks, if we can reach them?</p>
<p>Give us fair play.</p>
<p>Well, I was too lame to get out at all, after that night, for<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</SPAN></span>
a week. I had rheumatism. Had Master been there to treat
me, I might have recovered, but Herman knew nothing
about horse-doctoring, and so it ran on. If I did get a little
better, it was only to be overdriven and exposed. Another
time there was to be a horse-race five miles off, and Chet
drove Prince and I in the buggy.</p>
<p>Then I found out how it hurts a heavy-bodied, short-legged
horse to be driven with a light-bodied, long-limbed one.
He drove, as usual, just as fast as he could make us go, uphill
and down the same. More than once I thought I should
fall, and by the time he stopped I was whiter than even
nature intended me to be, being covered with foam.</p>
<p>Prince was not nearly so tired, but he said it irritated
and fretted him to be driven with a horse of my build.</p>
<p>It was only a little country horse-race, and the animals
were chiefly working ones with neither inclination, strength
nor training for the race-track.</p>
<p>The men were wild with excitement, and betting was going
on all around.</p>
<p>After a while three men got on their horses' backs and
started. The crowd yelled and clapped their hands; the
riders buried the cruel spurs in the horses' sides, and leaned
as far forward as possible.</p>
<p>Of course, some one had to beat, and it was a long-legged,
bony creature that won the first heat.</p>
<p>Three times the same ones ran, and twice the long-legged
one won, but the others had done their best; yes, more than
that, I may say.</p>
<p>Poor things! there they stood, sweat and blood covering
their sides, every nerve and muscle overstrained, and their
masters cursing them for their defeat. The entire afternoon
was consumed in this manner. Among others Prince
was taken on the track. I knew by his eye, and the poise
of his head he did not like it, but he behaved nicely until a
cruel-looking fellow got on his back and dug the rowels in;
with one bound he was off, and the rider had hard work to
keep his seat. He won the heat, and I was scarcely enjoying
his victory when, quick as a flash, he reached out and
catching the fellow by the shoulder flung him headlong
some feet away.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>Some one caught the bridle strap, and, as soon as the fellow
could pick himself up, he flew at the offender, dealing
him a blow between the eyes with a club chancing to be
handy.</p>
<p>"Hold on!" Chet cried, but another, and another blow
followed. My noble gray friend staggered, gathered up,
staggered again, then fell. A half-dozen convulsive shivers
passed over his frame and he was dead.</p>
<p>In a fury of anger and terror the young master sprang
upon Prince's slayer. They grappled, but strong hands
separated them, and Chet had only to put my harness in the
buggy, get on my back and ride sorrowfully homeward.</p>
<p>Dr. Fred was in a temper, to be sure, and immediately had
an officer after the man who had killed his horse.</p>
<p>All night and, for many nights, I could not close my eyes
without seeming to see poor Prince in the death-throes, and
all because he dared to resent unfair treatment. I heard
Herman say that the fellow had paid for the horse, that Chet
and his father had had a quarrel, and that Mrs. Wallace
insisted on the former leaving home.</p>
<p>"Yes, she's mighty keen fer the first woman's boys to
leave home," remarked an old man who worked around the
barn. "She's wantin' 'em out of the way so her young
uns 'll git the property."</p>
<p>"Guess there won't be enough to fight over if Dr. Dick
stays away long," Herman replied.</p>
<p>Speaking of horse-races reminds me to say that if all race-horses,
or those that are made to run, could tell their stories
they would fill volumes with tales of injustice and suffering.
All animals will, if humanely treated, do their best for their
masters; but a kind word and reassuring pat will go much
further toward winning a race than all the spurs and curses
in the world.</p>
<p>Many a race has been lost through the very efforts made
to win it.</p>
<p>Coolness and self-possession are indispensable in both
horse and rider.</p>
<p>I remember of being at a State fair with my master some
years later, and witnessing a race. Among the competitors
was a handsome little black horse, all grit and goodness,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</SPAN></span>
but, owing to its owner being partly intoxicated, it lost the
stake, in consequence incurring his wrath. And how he did
pound the noble little beast!</p>
<p>A number of disapprovals arose from the multitude, but
no one ventured to interfere.</p>
<p>The animal was his, you know.</p>
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