tables.
There was accommodation for many horses and carriages; but I need only
describe the stable into which I was taken; this was very roomy, with
four good stalls; a large swinging window opened into the yard, which
made it pleasant and airy.

The first stall was a large square one, shut in behind with a wooden
gate; the others were common stalls, good stalls, but not nearly so
large; it had a low rack for hay and a low manger for corn; it was
called a loose box, because the horse that was put into it was not tied
up, but left loose, to do as he liked. It is a great thing to have a
loose box.

Into this fine box the groom put me; it was clean, sweet, and airy. I
never was in a better box than that, and the sides were not so high but
that I could see all that went on through the iron rails that were at
the top.

He gave me some very nice oats, he patted me, spoke kindly, and then
went away.

When I had eaten my corn I looked round. In the stall next to mine stood
a little fat gray pony, with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty head,
and a pert little nose.

I put my head up to the iron rails at the top of my box, and said, "How
do you do? What is your name?"

He turned round as far as his halter would allow, held up his head,
and said, "My name is Merrylegs. I am very handsome; I carry the young
ladies on my back, and sometimes I take our mistress out in the low
chair. They think a great deal of me, and so does James. Are you going
to live next door to me in the box?"

I said, "Yes."

"Well, then," he said, "I hope you are good-tempered; I do not like any
one next door who bites."

Just then a horse's head looked over from the stall beyond; the ears
were laid back, and the eye looked rather ill-tempered. This was a tall
chestnut mare, with a long handsome neck. She looked across to me and
said:

"So it is you who have turned me out of my box; it is a very strange
thing for a colt like you to come and turn a lady out of her own home."

"I beg your pardon," I said, "I have turned no one out; the man who
brought me put me here, and I had nothing to do with it; and as to my
being a colt, I am turned four years old and am a grown-up horse. I
never had words yet with horse or mare, and it is my wish to live at
peace."

"Well," she said, "we shall see. Of course, I do not want to have words
with a young thing like you." I said no more.

In the afternoon, when she went out, Merrylegs told me all about it.