ood-bye!" He ran and leaped over the fence, and
trotted down the road with his head well up and his tail in the air. And
then how the Gray Colt did want to follow! "I won't!" she said again. "I
won't do it. I'll look the other way and try to forget it, but I wish he
knew how hard it is to be good sometimes."

The next morning the Bay Colt was in the pasture again. The farmer and
his man had found him far away and led him back. "I had a fine time," he
said to his cousin, "and I don't feel a bit mean. I'm going again
to-day, but don't you tell." When his mother scolded him as he
deserved, he just switched his tail and thought about something else
until she stopped talking. Then he ran away again.

The next morning when the Gray Colt saw him, he had a queer wooden thing
around his neck, and fastened to this was a pole that stuck out ahead of
him. It tired his neck and bothered him when he wanted to run. If he had
tried to jump the fence, it would have thrown him down. When the Gray
Colt came toward him, he pretended not to see her. He might just as well
have looked squarely at her as soon as she came, because, you know, he
had to look at her sometime, but he had a mean, slinking, afraid
feeling, such as people always have when they have done something wrong
and have had time to think about it. Besides, he had changed his mind
since the wooden poke had been put on him, and somehow his running away
seemed very foolish now. He wondered how he could ever have thought it
any fun, and he was so disgusted that he couldn't keep his ears still,
but moved them restlessly when he remembered his own silliness.

The Gray Colt was too polite to say anything about his wearing the poke,
and she talked about the grass, the sky, the trees, and everything else
she could think of. Once she was about to speak of the fence, and then
she remembered and stopped short. The Bay Colt noticed this. "You might
just as well go on," said he. "You are very kind, but I know how foolish
I have been, and there's no use in keeping still. You were right, and it
doesn't pay to jump fences for a few minutes of what you think will be
fun. I feel sick all over when I think about it."

"It's too bad," whinnied the Gray Colt. "I'm very sorry for you."

"And what do you think?" said the Bay Colt. "I heard the Dappled Gray
say this morning that I was like a Pig! Imagine a Colt being like a Pig!
He said that it didn't make any difference on which side of a fence Pi