t into the barn or the cow house," he said, "but
there's a big, empty hay shed that they have forgotten to bolt. I can
lead you into that."

"Thank you!" said the horse. "It will seem good to sleep once more on
familiar ground. It's the only happiness I can expect in this life."

Meanwhile, at the flourishing farm opposite the inn, the family sat up
much later than usual that evening.

The master of the place was a man of thirty-five, tall and dignified,
with a handsome but melancholy face. During the day he had been out in
the rain and had got wet, like every one else, and at supper he asked
his old mother, who was still mistress of the place, to light a fire on
the hearth that he might dry his clothes. The mother kindled a feeble
blaze--for in that house they were not wasteful with wood--and the
master hung his coat on the back of a chair, and placed it before the
fire. With one foot on top of the andiron and a hand resting on his
knee, he stood gazing into the embers. Thus he stood for two whole
hours, making no move other than to cast a log on the fire now and then.

The mistress removed the supper things and turned down his bed for the
night before she went to her own room and seated herself. At intervals
she came to the door and looked wonderingly at her son.

"It's nothing, mother. I'm only thinking," he said.

His thoughts were on something that had occurred shortly before: When he
passed the inn a horse dealer had asked him if he would not like to
purchase a horse, and had shown him an old nag so weather-beaten that he
asked the dealer if he took him for a fool, since he wished to palm off
such a played-out beast on him.

"Oh, no!" said the horse dealer. "I only thought that, inasmuch as the
horse once belonged to you, you might wish to give him a comfortable
home in his old age; he has need of it."

Then he looked at the horse and recognized it as one which he himself
had raised and broken in; but it did not occur to him to purchase such
an old and useless creature on that account. No, indeed! He was not one
who squandered his money.

All the same, the sight of the horse had awakened many, memories--and it
was the memories that kept him awake.

That horse had been a fine animal. His father had let him tend it from
the start. He had broken it in and had loved it above everything else.
His father had complained that he used to feed it too well, and often he
had been obliged to steal out and smuggle oa