n to perform the one hundredth part of the task
undertaken willingly by that gallant Arab steed, but how are you
carrying the tiny, light burdens which your every-day duties place on
you? True heroism consists not so much in the performance of one noble
deed, which may become the poet's theme, but in doing all that we have
to do, and in seeking to do as much as we can of what there is to be
done, to the very best of our power, and in bearing with patience what
we are called on to bear.
THE OLD CHARGER.
The horse has been frequently known to recognise his rider after a long
absence. He is also especially a sociable animal, and once accustomed
to others of his kind, rarely forgets them. At the trumpet's sound, the
old war-horse pricks up his ears, snorts, and paws the ground, eager to
join his ancient comrades.
Some years ago the assistant to a surveyor was employed to ride along a
certain line of turnpike road, to see that the contractors were doing
their work properly. He was mounted on a horse which had belonged to a
field-officer; and, though aged, still possessed much spirit. It
happened that a troop of yeomanry were out exercising on a neighbouring
common. No sooner did the old horse espy the line of warriors, and hear
the bugle-call, than, greatly to the dismay of his rider, he leaped the
fence and was speedily at his post in front of the regiment; nor could
the civilian equestrian induce him by any means to quit the ground till
the regiment left it. As long as they kept the field, the horse
remained in front of the troop; and then insisted on marching at their
head into the town, prancing as well as his old legs would allow him, to
the great amusement of the volunteers, and the no small annoyance of the
clerk, who had thus been compelled to assume a post he would gladly have
avoided.
Old habits cling to us as pertinaciously as did those of that ancient
war-steed; and often when we flatter ourselves that they have been
overcome, temptation appears, and we yield to them as of yore. Do you,
my young friends, take heed to adopt only good habits, and adhere to
them.
CHAPTER FOUR.
DONKEYS.
Degraded as it is supposed they are by nature, and cruelly ill-used as
donkeys too often are in England, they are fully as intelligent as
horses. They are not only capable of playing all manner of tricks, but
sometimes indulge in a variety, of their own accord.
DONKEY BOB, THE POLICEMAN.
Mrs F--'s fa
|