of a grave
old horse, Ned elevated his mane, and swept angrily around the now
frightened lad, neighing fiercely, and striking out into the air with his
heels at a furious rate. Jane and Neddy ran, but the horse kept up, and by
his acts threatening every moment to kill them. But, angry as the old
fellow was, he did not really intend to harm the children, who at length
reached the fence toward which they were flying. Jane got safely over, but
just as Neddy was creeping through the bars, the horse caught hold of his
loose coat, with his teeth, and pulled him back into the field, where he
turned him over and over on the grass with his nose for half a dozen times,
but without harming him in the least, and then let him go, and went
trotting back to the cool, shady place under the old walnut tree, from
which the switch of the thoughtless boy had aroused him.

Neddy, you may be sure, was dreadfully frightened, and went crying home. On
the next day, when they came to the field in which Ned lived at his ease
and enjoyed himself, the old horse was grazing in a far-off corner, and the
children thought they might safely venture to cross over. But they had only
gained half the distance, when Ned espied them, and, with a loud neigh,
gave chase at full gallop. The children ran, in great alarm, for the fence,
and got through, safely, before the horse came up.

After this, whenever they ventured to cross the field, Ned would interfere.
Once he got Neddy's hat in his mouth, and ran off with it. But he didn't
harm it any, and after keeping the children waiting at the fence for about
half an hour, came and threw it over; after which he kicked up both his
heels in a defiant manner, and giving a "horse laugh," scampered away as if
a locomotive were after him.

At last Neddy's father complained to Farmer Jones of the way in which his
old horse was annoying the children, who had to pass through the field, as
they went to school, or else be compelled to go a long distance out of
their way. The farmer inquired the cause of Ned's strange conduct, and
learned that the little boy cut him across the shoulders with a willow
switch.

"Ho! ho!" said he, "that's the trouble, is it? Ned won't bear a stroke from
any one. But I will make up the matter between him and the children. So let
them stop here on their way from school this evening."

The children stopped accordingly. Ned was standing in the barn-yard, the
very picture of demure innocence. But