Even Beautiful Bay, experienced as he must have been in such events, seemed to be under the influence of the lively atmosphere and curved his neck with spirit to the admiration and respect of everyone who knew the old horse. True felt a little anxiety for the result when Beautiful Bay was led before the Judges, but this was quite unnecessary; he returned with a blue ribband on his bridle and a very satisfied look in his eye. Then the Three-year-olds were called. True’s temples throbbed; there were many beautiful horses there and, being modest, he had not guessed that he was the most beautiful and meritorious of them all. When they were led out some bared their teeth, kicked at each other, and misbehaved shockingly. The contrast between True’s breeding and theirs was very marked. When the Judges approached some of them even went so far as to whirl for a kick! True in his turn, however, stepped out briskly and easily, small, lean head high, heavy black mane and tail waving lightly in the morning breeze. But, all suddenly, the stupid groom jerked his halter sharply. Startled, the young horse flung himself backward. “Now, you young rascal!” cried the lout, grandly, as if he were Mahommed himself, “None of your capers with _me_!” Not being accustomed to rudeness, True backed, indignantly, and dragged the boy along with him. At this moment there was a rustle, like leaves in autumn, or the brush of wings, and the flying figure of a maid seemed poised beside the little horse, so light and airy was she. All the odors of aromatic herbs and grasses of Arabia--myrrh, frankincense and balsam, of which his mother had told him--enveloped his imagination and delighted his senses. He thrust his large tremulous nostrils forward, hungry to inhale more deeply of this new creature. Never had he scented her like before. “Oh, please, Mr. Judge!” she cried, and as soon as she spoke True recognized the dulcet tones of Mistress Lloyd, of Maryland. Thrilling, as she caught his rein, he calmed himself instantly. “Don’t let them jerk him so! Ah, my Beauty,” she continued, putting her cheek against his, “here is a piece of sugar for you!” She extended the rose-leaf palm, from which he had seen his father eat one day and on which was another bit of maple sugar. “See, he is so _willing_ to be good, _if you will but let him_!” When he had lipped her hand all over very gently, to get the last crumb, True poked his small muzzle into the hollow of her neck and listened to her voice murmuring in his ear. All the soft breezes and blue sky of the universe were concentrated in the delicious spell of her presence, for this young maiden was one of those rare human beings who possess a mysterious understanding of animals, especially horses, which gives a power and control over them--almost miraculous.