s for
killing him, that was out of the question. He would rather lose his
best horse than Caesar. True, the neighbors might have sued the owner
of the dog, and have got the value of their lost sheep in that way.
But they were generally peaceable folks, and had a great dread of
going to law, especially with one of their own neighbors. The result
was, that Caesar's business prospered more and more every day.

It was in the full tide of his success as a sheep-killer, that he
came, one day, into Mr. Marble's door yard, and took his station near
the wood pile. Mike saw him, and knew well enough what he came for.
His father had just been slaughtering an ox, and some of the dainty
pieces of the animal were lying on the wood pile, the scent of which
had brought Caesar to the spot. No doubt, having feasted on mutton so
long, he had got a little sick of it, and thought he would make a
dinner on beef. He was a dainty fellow, you perceive.

I don't know what put it into Mike's head to play the trick he did on
Caesar. But he had no sooner seen him smelling around among the refuse
pieces of the ox's carcass, than he determined to punish him, if
possible, for his notorious crimes. So, without saying a word to any
body, he gathered up all the choice bits which had tempted the dog to
the yard, and placed them within a few feet of the heels of Mr.
Marble's old chaise horse, who was standing there, hitched to a gate
post, waiting patiently for somebody to come and harness him.

Now this horse, who was called _Old Ironsides_, was as famous for his
kicking habits as Caesar was for his sheep-killing. He seemed to take
up kicking as a sort of amusement, to while away his leisure hours.
It was a wonder that Mr. Marble kept him; for he had kicked the old
chaise to pieces several times; and as to his stable, he made nothing
of kicking off all the boards within reach of his heels, every few
nights, just for the fun of the thing, and to show what mighty deeds
he could do with his heels.

It is no more than an act of simple justice to Old Ironsides, however,
to say, that he was as gentle as a lamb to the children of his master.
They could do any thing with him. Often, when he was standing at the
door, or in his stable, they would go close to him, and pat him on his
neck, and play with him, as if he were one of their own number; and
the old fellow would take all their fun good-humoredly. Among all his
sins in the kicking line--and he had a great