Not long since his little friend, now grown a large girl of nine years, went with her mother to the city to do some shopping, and, turning into Twenty-second Street from Sixth Avenue, the first object which met her eyes was Big Jack standing in front of one of the shops. Although five years have passed over Jack’s head since we first met him,--and that is quite a number as horses’ lives are counted,--they have dealt very gently with him, and he is but little changed. Not quite so sleek, perhaps, and not so kittenish, for Jack has worked hard and steadily all these years, and work tells even upon the strongest horses; but the same old Jack stood before us, and could not be mistaken. We were behind him, and his blinders prevented him from seeing us. “Oh, mamma,” said his little friend, “do you think he will remember me if I speak to him? How I wish we had some sugar for the dear old fellow!” I replied that we would step into a store close at hand and get a few lumps, and then we would test Jack’s memory. We soon had our sugar, and Wee Winkles--no longer “wee”--walked up from behind him as of old, and said in the voice which Jack had not heard for nearly four years, and which naturally must have changed considerably in that interval: “Good-morning, dear old Jack!” To my great astonishment, the recognition was instantaneous. Quick as a flash the great head was turned; and not only that, but a soft whinny told of the dear old fellow’s joy, as did also the quick snuggling down to the outstretched arms. No one could possibly doubt these demonstrations of delight; and when they were followed by the voluntary upraising of the huge fore foot, as of old, for the--what shall I say--foot-shake? his little friend’s joy knew no bounds. “Oh, mamma, mamma,” she cried, “did you _ever_ know anything so wonderful?” I replied that it was indeed very remarkable, and added, “Can it be possible that he has remembered all the tricks? Ask him about the s-u-g-a-r”--spelling the word lest the sound might recall the trick of the buttons. “Who loves sugar, and how many lumps have I in my pocket for somebody?” But, alas! fashions have changed in four years, and some coats have no buttons at all. In vain poor Jack felt about for the top button, then a little lower for where No. 2 should have been found, then at the other side for three and four, but no buttons were there; and Jack, utterly disgusted, manifested it by shaking his head and stamping his foot. His surprise was absurdly funny, and if he could have spoken I believe he would have said with withering scorn: “Well, if _I_ were in _your_ place I’d go straight home and _sew on my buttons_!” Jack, however, got his four lumps despite the fashions, and was a very happy horse.