Thorwald talked to us a short time about other matters, and then asked us all to prepare to go out. When we reached the door the doctor and I were surprised to see a beautiful and commodious carriage, to which were attached, with the lightest possible harness, four of the handsomest horses we had ever seen. There were, besides, two fine saddle-horses for the children, who were to accompany us. Thorwald drove, but without rein or whip, the horses being guided perfectly and easily merely by word of mouth. The animals were also so large and strong that they seemed to enjoy the sport as much as we did. “Do you mean to say,” I inquired, “that such a turnout as this can be had for the asking?” “Certainly. I just said through the telephone that I would like a carriage for four persons, and two saddle-horses. The man who has the care of the horses is a friend of mine who likes the work better than anything else.” “The horses appear to be well broken,” the doctor remarked. “Broken,” said Zenith, “what do you mean by that, Doctor?” “Why, it is an expression by which we mean that the high spirit with which they were born has been subdued, making it easy to train them to obedience.” “They must be wild, then,” spoke Zenith again, “and you are obliged to tame them. The difference here is that the horses are born tame and do not need breaking, and though they have plenty of spirit, as you see, they are so intelligent and have such solidity of character that there is never any danger that they will become unmanageable.” “That must be so,” said I, “or you could not be sure of being free from accidents. But tell us, Thorwald, how it happens that we have not seen others enjoying this delightful mode of traveling.” “It is not very singular that you have not seen any horses before,” said Thorwald. “They have been entirely superseded in all kinds of business, you remember, by mechanical power, and even for pleasure-riding most people are too tender of heart to enjoy using them. They fear the horses will be fatigued, and they do not like to see them straining themselves in dragging a heavy load, when there is a force that has no feeling ready to do it a great deal better. “But you can see these horses are not working very hard, and it is a good thing for us sometimes to give up a little sentiment. There is some danger that our sympathies may carry us too far. For instance, it is probably a real kindness to these horses to give them a little work, if we are only careful not to render their service galling to them; and yet there are many people who never drive, on account of the feeling they have for the beasts.” “It would be a good thing if we had more of that sentiment on the earth,” said the doctor. [Illustration: “THE HORSES ARE BORN TAME”] CHAPTER XXXIV. THE EMANCIPATION OF MAN.