While prowling about his stable yard one afternoon he somehow managed to pick up a nail and, as though he were sure that his beloved mistress would help him, he whinnied and whinnied until his groom came to learn the cause. Seeing the horse limp, the man tried to take up his foot to examine it, but Billee preferred selecting his own surgeon, and although he could scarcely hobble, he pushed past his groom, who let him go, and limped to the front of the house, where he felt certain of finding his mistress. She was seated in her favorite chair near the hedge, and with a glad neigh he hobbled up to her and held up the lame foot. “Why, Billee dear! what is the matter?” she cried, and, jumping up, she took the poor foot into her hands. Billee poked his nose down and made a queer grunting sort of sound, as though trying to tell her his trouble. “Yes, dear, I see what it is; we will soon have it out,” she said, and Thomas was summoned and the nail removed. “Now come with me, Billee, and we will fix it all comfortable,” and she led him back to his stall. She soon had the feverish foot standing in a tub of oil meal, and, bidding him “be a good horse and not take his foot out of the tub till she gave him leave,” she left him. A dozen times a day during the four or five that followed, she went out to pour cold water on the ankle and see that the foot was properly cared for, and each time she appeared Billee’s joy was boundless, and he would hold up his foot to have it dressed. Such constant care could not fail to effect a prompt cure, and in a week’s time Billee was as frisky as ever. But he never forgot his lame foot, and ever after, when he felt particularly in need of sympathy, would put on a make-believe limp, and if Marion said “Poor Billee Taylor, he has _such_ a lame foot,” the rogue would hold it up, put his nose down to it, and give voice to a low snicker, as though trying to tell the story all over again. Billee’s life was like the good prince’s in the fairy tales: “He lived long and happily, and died at a ripe old age.” CHARLIE & CO. CHARLIE & CO. Charlie was distinctly a local character. I doubt if he could claim any special distinction even in his own town, and yet among his few friends he held an enviable place, for they loved and trusted him, and neither the love nor the trust was misplaced. It is more than five years ago since we first met Charlie & Co., and even then neither of the partners was young nor handsome. But they commanded our attention.