"Well, no, I don't suppose he suffers except for food and a little care; but if he can't have 'em, it will go hard with him," answered Mr. White, wondering if the old fellow had any work in him still. "He never should have been left in this forlorn way. Those who had had his youth and strength should have cared for him in his age;" and Mrs. West looked indignant. "So they should, ma'am; but Miller was a mean man, and when he moved, he just left the old horse to live or die, though he told me, himself, that Major had served him well, for nigh on to twenty years. What do you calculate to do about it, ma'am?" asked Mr. White, in a hurry to be off. "I'll show you, sir. Ned, let down the bars, and lead old Major in. That shall be his home while he lives, for so faithful a servant has earned his rest, and he shall have it." Something in the ring of mamma's voice and the gesture of her hand made Ned's eyes kindle, and Mr. White walk away, saying, affably,-- "All right, ma'am; I haven't a word to say against it." But somehow Mr. White's big barn did not look as handsome to him as usual when he remembered that his neighbor, who had no barn at all, had taken in the friendless horse. It was difficult to make Major enter the field; for he had been turned out of so many, driven away from so many lawns, and even begrudged the scanty pickings of the roadside, that he could not understand the invitation given him to enter and take possession of a great, green field, with apple trees for shade, and a brook babbling through the middle of it. When at last he ventured over the bars, it was both sad and funny to see how hard he tried to enjoy himself and express his delight. First, he sniffed the air, then he nibbled the sweet grass, took a long look about him, and astonished the children by lying down with a groan, and trying to roll. He could not do it, however, so lay still with his head stretched out, gently flapping his tail as if to say,-- "It's all right, my dears. I'm not very strong, and joy upsets me; but I'm quite comfortable, bless you!" "Isn't it nice to see him, all safe and happy, mamma?" sighed Posy, folding her hands in childish satisfaction, while Ned sat down beside his horse, and began to take the burrs out of his mane. "Very nice, only don't kill him with kindness, and be careful not to get hurt," answered mamma, as she went back to her work, feeling as if she had bought an elephant, and didn't know what to do with him. Later in the day a sudden shower came up, and mamma looked about to be sure her little people were under cover, for they played out all day long, if possible. No chickens could the maternal hen find to gather under her wings, and so went clucking anxiously about till Sally, the cook, said, with a laugh,-- "Ned's down in the pastur', mum, holding an umberella over that old horse, and he's got a waterproof on him, too. Calvin see it, and 'most died a-laughing."