had, it would have made no difference, as
all the fire of youth seemed to have died out with Prancer years ago.
But early associations are strong; and as the "horse scenteth the battle
afar off," so did Prancer prick up his ears and quicken his pace at the
spirit-stirring sounds of the fife and drum; and now he began to make an
awkward attempt to dance sideways upon the points of his hoofs; and as
he neared the brow of the hill, his excitement became more intense, and
his curveting and prancing more animated. Cousin Betty was almost
terrified to death. Throwing away her whip, and grasping the reins, she
endeavored to stop him; but he only held in his head, and danced
sideways up the street with more animation and spirit than ever. She
thought of throwing herself off, but the immense height rendered such a
feat utterly unsafe; she endeavored to rein the horse up to the
side-walk; but now he had caught sight of the motley array of trainers,
and of the gay horses and gayer uniforms of the officers, and,
regardless alike of bit and rein, he started off at full speed, to join
the long-forgotten but once familiar spectacle.

Cousin Betty had by this time dropped the reins, and was clinging with
both arms to Old Prancer's neck; and as he turned his face to the
company, and backed gallantly down the street, the sight was too
irresistibly ludicrous. Shouts and laughter, and expressions of
encouragement to poor cousin Betty, were heard on all sides; till at
length a militia officer, taking pity upon her helpless condition, led
the unwilling Prancer to the tavern, and assisted her to alight. Here
cousin Betty remained till sun-down, and all was quiet; and then,
requesting the tavern-keeper to lead the horse out of town while she
walked, she again, with much fear and trembling, mounted when beyond
the precincts of the village.

Prancer, however, walked slowly home, with his head drooping, as if
thoroughly mortified at the excesses into which he had been betrayed;
and cousin Betty, when she once got safely home, declared that she'd go
without yarn another time, if it was a whole year, before she would
mount such a "treacherous animal as that 'ere."

But, with all her oddities, cousin Betty was sometimes a very amusing
companion. She had many stories of her youth stowed away in her memory,
which, when wanted, could be found and brought to light much more
readily than the articles she was so constantly missing now; and though
these