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Horses Nine Stories of Harness and Saddle   By: (1868-1946)

Book cover

First Page:

[Illustration: By one desperate leap he shook himself clear. (Page 263.)]

HORSES NINE

STORIES OF HARNESS AND SADDLE

BY SEWELL FORD

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 1905

Copyright, 1903, by CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

Published, March, 1903

TROW DIRECTORY PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY NEW YORK

CONTENTS Page

SKIPPER 1 Being the Biography of a Blue Ribboner.

CALICO 31 Who Travelled with a Round Top.

OLD SILVER 67 A Story of the Gray Horse Truck.

BLUE BLAZES 95 And the Marring of Him.

CHIEFTAIN 125 A Story of the Heavy Draught Service.

BARNACLES 157 Who Mutinied for Good Cause.

BLACK EAGLE 181 Who Once Ruled the Ranges.

BONFIRE 215 Broken for the House of Jerry.

PASHA 241 The Son of Selim.

[Illustration]

ILLUSTRATIONS

By Frederic Dorr Steele and L. Maynard Dixon

By one desperate leap he shook himself clear Frontispiece

FACING PAGE

There were many heavy wagons 6

For many weary months Skipper pulled that crazy cart 24

He would do his best to steady them down to the work 130

Then let him snake a truck down West Street 144

"Come, boy. Come, Pasha," insisted the man on the ground 266

Mr. Dave kept his seat more by force of muscular habit than anything else 268

SKIPPER

BEING THE BIOGRAPHY OF A BLUE RIBBONER

At the age of six Skipper went on the force. Clean of limb and sound of wind he was, with not a blemish from the tip of his black tail to the end of his crinkly forelock. He had been broken to saddle by a Green Mountain boy who knew more of horse nature than of the trashy things writ in books. He gave Skipper kind words and an occasional friendly pat on the flank. So Skipper's disposition was sweet and his nature a trusting one.

This is why Skipper learned so soon the ways of the city. The first time he saw one of those little wheeled houses, all windows and full of people, come rushing down the street with a fearful whirr and clank of bell, he wanted to bolt. But the man on his back spoke in an easy, calm voice, saying, "So o o! There, me b'y. Aisy wid ye. So o o!" which was excellent advice, for the queer contrivance whizzed by and did him no harm. In a week he could watch one without even pricking up his ears.

It was strange work Skipper had been brought to the city to do. As a colt he had seen horses dragging ploughs, pulling big loads of hay, and hitched to many kinds of vehicles. He himself had drawn a light buggy and thought it good fun, though you did have to keep your heels down and trot instead of canter. He had liked best to lope off with the boy on his back, down to the Corners, where the store was.

But here there were no ploughs, nor hay carts, nor mowing machines. There were many heavy wagons, it was true, but these were all drawn by stocky Percherons and big Western grays or stout Canada blacks who seemed fully equal to the task... Continue reading book >>




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