fered one of the children to
smooth his nose while another held a lump of sugar to his dainty lips,
his amiable behavior restored my friend to his peace of mind and his
long-lost faith in a world of reason.

The ridiculous planet, wavering bat-like through space, on which it had
been impossible for an innocent man to buy a suitable horse was a dream
of the past, and he had the solid, sensible old earth under his feet
once more. He mounted into the phaeton and drove off with his wife; he
returned and gave each of the children a drive in succession. He told
them that any of them could drive Billy as much as they liked, and he
quieted a clamor for exclusive ownership on the part of each by
declaring that Billy belonged to the whole family. To this day he cannot
look back to those moments without tenderness. If Billy had any apparent
fault, it was an amiable indolence. But this made him all the safer for
the children, and it did not really amount to laziness. While on sale he
had been driven in a provision cart, and had therefore the habit of
standing unhitched. One had merely to fling the reins into the bottom of
the phaeton and leave Billy to his own custody. His other habit of
drawing up at kitchen gates was not confirmed, and the fact that he
stumbled on his way to the doctor who pronounced him blameless was
reasonably attributed to a loose stone at the foot of the hill; the
misstep resulted in a barked shin, but a little wheel-grease, in a horse
of Billy's complexion, easily removed the evidence of this.

It was natural that after Billy was bought and paid for, several
extremely desirable horses should be offered to my friend by their
owners, who came in person, stripped of all the adventitious mystery of
agents and middle-men. They were gentlemen, and they spoke the English
habitual with persons not corrupted by horses. My friend saw them come
and go with grief; for he did not like to be shaken in his belief that
Billy was the only horse in the world for him, and he would have liked
to purchase their animals, if only to show his appreciation of honor and
frankness and sane language. Yet he was consoled by the possession of
Billy, whom he found increasingly excellent and trustworthy. Any of the
family drove him about; he stood unhitched; he was not afraid of cars;
he was as kind as a kitten; he had not, as the neighboring coachman
said, a voice, though he seemed a little loively in coming out of the
stable sometimes.