d you did
al'ays use to say you'd keep en for her sake. Ah, 'tis twenty year
since I run out and found en aside of her in the paddock--walkin'
about as clever as you please, and not above two hours old. Not a
white hair on en--d'ye mind?--and such big, strong legs! I was all for
a-callin' en Beauty, but you said Beauty was a filly's name. And he
did use to run to paddock-gate when he wur a little un, and I wur
a-goin' to feed chicken--he'd know my very foot, and he'd come
prancin' to meet I, and put his little nose in the bucket. Dear, to be
sure, I mind it just so well as if it wur yesterday!"

The farmer laughed and stroked his beard.

"'E-es, he was a wonderful knowin' colt," he agreed, placidly.
"There's a deal o' sense in beasts if ye take notice on 'em and treat
'em friendly like. Them little lambs as we did bring up to-year was so
clever as Christians, wasn't they? Ye mind the little chap we did call
Cronje, how he used to run to I when he did see I a-comin' wi' the
teapot? And Nipper--ye mind Nipper? He didn't come on so well as the
others; he was sickly-proud, so to speak, and wouldn't suckey out o'
the teapot same as the rest. But he knowed his name so well as any o'
them, and 'ud screw his head round, and cock his ears just as a dog
mid do, when I did call en. Pigs, even," he proceeded meditatively,
"there's a deal o' sense in pigs, if ye look for it. Charl', ye mind
Charl', what he had soon after we was married? That there pig knowed
my v'ice so well as you do. What I did use to come into the yard and
did call 'Charl',' he'd answer me back, 'Umph.' Ho! ho! I used to
stand there and laugh fit to split. Ye never heard anythin' more
nat'ral. 'Charl',' I'd call; 'Umph' he'd go. Ho! ho! ho!"

The woman did not laugh; she was screwing up her eyes in the endeavour
to penetrate the darkness of the stable. "Poor wold Blackbird," she
said, "I wish it hadn't come to this. It do seem cruel someway. There,
he did never cost 'ee a penny, wi'out 'twas for shoes, and he've
a-worked hard ever sin' he could pull a cart--never a bit o' vice or
mischief. It do seem cruel hard as he shouldn't end his days on the
place where he was bred."

"My dear woman," said her husband loftily, "what good would it do the
poor beast to end his days here instead of up yonder? He's bound to
end 'em anyways, and we are twenty-two shillin' the better for lettin'
of en go to the kennels."

"Twenty-two shillin'?" repeated his wife.

"'E-es,