“They were brought up together; were taught by the same master; sat on the same bench, in a figurative sense; were lovers from the very first. Prince certainly had the most elegant manners; Nelly was his first thought, at all times, and his courtesy to her savored of the old school. He wouldn’t go into the shed of a cold, rainy day and leave Nelly outside; but if she went in, he was more than content to follow. When it was necessary to separate them—we couldn’t always work them together—we had to tie Prince with ropes and cables, as it were, to hold him fast. Nelly was less difficult to manage; at least, she would let him go out of sight without fretting, and yet, after all, she seemed easier if he were at hand. I remember, one day, he was tied in front of the house, and she was loose, grazing near by. As long as he could see her, all went well enough, but the moment she sauntered around the fence, he began first to fidget, then to paw and neigh, and finally to struggle, until in the end, he broke loose and rushed after his inamorata. And what a time he made over her! whinnying, and demonstrating his delight in a dozen different ways. She? oh, she took it coolly, but that was all feminine bosh, or coquetry on her part. She liked to have him near her well enough. “There was an amusing thing happened one day, down in the field. Father and I were plowing with Nell. We had tied Prince to a tree, the other side of the knoll we were working on, and supposed he was fast, but to our surprise, just as we turned, after finishing a long furrow, we confronted the gentleman, tree and all, standing before us in a weak and fainting condition. He had struggled until he had uprooted the whole business, and was so used up in consequence, that he could hardly stagger, much less go into his usual hysterics over Nell. She looked as amazed as we did, and I’ve no doubt gave him a sound curtain lecture on his folly that night. “One day father and Ned took Prince down into the field. Steve and I stayed up near the house, working around the vineyard. Nelly was in the stable. “The morning was half gone, when all at once Steve happened to turn around, and look down the hill. “‘Gosh, Jack!’ he exclaimed, ‘the barn’s afire.’ “I gave one startled look, and then ran for the hose. “‘Get Nelly out!’ I cried to Steve; but after a second look, I called, ‘No, don’t you do it! Let her go! it’s too late!’ “‘I won’t let her go!’ he shouted; ‘do you think I’ll stand by and see Nelly burned to death!’ “‘You’d be a fool to go in now! Look at that stable! Here! Stand back! Have you lost your wits?’ “‘Let me go!’ he cried; ‘Jack, get out of the way!’ “But I threw him down and held him. I was bigger than he; older, and cooler-headed too. “‘There, I give in,’ he said in a moment; ‘it’s wicked to lose time this way. Let me up, Jack, and we’ll get the hose. I promise you I won’t go in.’