His muscles, having developed under the saddle, used to pack weight, and set that way, wasn't for getting next to the change very easy. Looking thru a collar and pulling steady was so different to heading off and turning a wild-eyed critter. It wasn't at all like coming out of the chute in front of a grandstand and seeing how many jumps could be put into one, nor didn't compare even with packing equestrians around. He'd felt some free under the saddle, and even tho all of it had been real work, there'd always been something that fitted in and which made him feel natural. But now, with all these straps a hanging onto him, there was a feeling that he was tied down,--them straps even seemed to wrap around his heart at times and keep it from beating. And taking all, the strange hard work, the sting of the whip-lash on his ribs, nothing fit to eat after he was tired out and the day was over, it was no wonder that the old pony's heart begin to shrivel up on him. As the long days run into weeks and the work in the field and in the town got to bearing down on him, the old pony even got so he couldn't hate no more; abuse or kindness had both got to be the same, and one brought out no more result or show of interest than the other. He went to the jerk of the lines like without realizing, and when he was finally led into the stable when night come the feeling was the same. There he et the musty straw because it was under his nose, he didn't mind the taste of it, he didn't mind anything, any more. * * * * * Of the odd jobs that Cloudy's owner would get to do around town and whenever he could get away from his truck and chicken farm, there was one which he looked forward to the most, and which the thought of made him rub his hands together with pleasure. It was that of scattering the posters advertising The Annual Rodeo, and Celebration, that was pulled off in town and every early fall. But that wasn't all, there was many other things for him to do at that time for which he could charge without anybody ever finding out whether all he'd been paid to do really had been done. That year as usual, he was ready, and right on the dot to take on some more of that kind of work. He'd hooked up the old mouse colored horse and taking a load of vegetables on the way in, stuck around town doing the different kinds of work the rodeo association had furnished him with. He'd be on the go all day and prodding the old horse into a trot, sometimes even if the wagon was loaded. It'd be away into the night before he'd turn the tired horse towards home. Every day was a great day, _for the man_, there was so many people around to make the town lively, and being most of 'em was strangers, he could get to within talking distance of 'em easy enough, and a few would even stand to have him around for a few minutes at the time.