Rensselaer Union and Jasper Republican, Volume 8, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 18 May 1876 — That Mare. [ARTICLE]

That Mare.

“ No, she ain’t the handsomest critter that ever lived, I du suppose,” said Uncle Reuben, running his long, thin fingers through his shaggy locks, “ bat I will declare, if ever there was a beast to go as if she were follered, and mind her own business on the road, she will beat the Dutch. She ain’t none of your newfangled, fancy-blooded coots nuther, for L raised her myself, and I know. But she’ll, go, 1 tell you, and it you’ll be careful on her I’ll let ye take her jest this once.” We felt honored. Here we had corns up to the Franconia Mountains the first time in years, and had left the city with, the lightest heart and brightest anticipations. They were now to be realised. Early spring was the season, and trout was the object of oar visit. We had provided ourselves with every conceivable necessary of fishing paraphernalia, and all we now desired was a horse to take us to “ Mad River,” which plungesfoams, sparkles and gurgles, dashes- and' splashes, its brilliant, beautifnl way, down toward the Merrimae, from. the fastness of Black Mountain, fifteen, miles away. We looked at the mare as she stood, with her muzzle thrust through the bars, her winter coat half on, her fetlocks dragging In the mud, her tail docked hail way, her mane at loose ends, and several galled places on her sides and neck, indicative oi some possible toughness in the harnessed’ thills. But we felt honored. Uncle Reuben was not always willing to let even his nephews drive his hones. We doubted in our hearts that the mare could “ go’-' so, as the old fellow sand, but we were glad to get any “ nag? which would jog us comfortably and safely along to the fishing ground. “Ye aint goia’ alone, he ye!" said Aunt Sally, as that mare and I stood in the “up country” open wagon: I arranging my “ tackle,” and she with her nose about to touch the earth, her eyes half shut, and one hind foot a tip-toe to. rest her leg, before she had traveled a rod “ It ye go alone. I’m afraid somethin’ll happen to re.” ‘*Oh, don’t worry," said we, smilingly, “ the mare don’t look very lively.” “She Is, though,” answered Uncle Reuben. “ end ye’d better keep a pretty taut rein on her. Good luck to ye!” as we finally flourished the whip, and “ the” slowly jogged out of the yard.

That mare had a queer step. Sbewent as If she was half cat She stole alottg almost without a sound. tHowty Shewtat and ffleatly. We enjoyed trying to hear her feet. In sake of the up-hill, rocky, deep, ratted rotufc, which hi this unsettled season were sometimes “go wed” almost bald aeroee the way, we could hardly hear a footstep so the grave!. She had no gait at ail. She had aot even two. If she had any at all, it was a covered, multipi I<h>, myriad-mannered affair, which was one thing and ten other things all At onde. She hepped up on one leg and am Wed on another. The other kept up* a quffck pattering trot, and the fourth, as we sky is races, “did the running.” Her bend she beM perfectly still Her nose r was slightly elevated heavenward, and ihdid not van» am inefc in three miles, Wer laughed at her and enjoyed her. We paid uo attention to the driving, but, seeing: she was perfeetly safe, gaaed about, us on the exquisite mountain scenery, the caps of snow glistening in the Slorlous light of the fresh, clear day, toe rst glimpse# of green along the book, ways, the bidding of the willows, the somber darkness of the pine-olad hills and all the Infinite tiny beauties which to* the close obsorver are never absent, from, the country landscape; As we werv curiously watching the flight of “ three black crows,” which, were making specks of themselves across a mountain hcllow, we noticed the mare had quickened he«. pace. The old wagonbegan to jingle Us loose screws in a little livelier manner,.and the creak of a wheel which needed oiling began to be suggestive. What caused this increase in velocthorein “taut,” as we had been advised,, an* were pleased at our rate of speed. ' The mare kept en. Sbewent gradual. Iv tester. How she went no tongue can tilL There is ne language capable of describing the sixteen wsys> she went at' ones. But she kept in the road, and she “ minded her business” well. She went alittfe faster *ll the- time. She began to get 1 down to a three-minute gait We concluded this was rwift enough for com-

fort. Uphill and down, over gullies and stones, on she went. We mildly insinuate d> that she might get tired. Wa pulled on the reins and shouted “ whoa.**' We gat tired. Thatt mare continued to get altong—slowly but surely getting down to 2*stt. We were by this tone a little anxious. We had bean se busy chatting in a- friendly way to the mare, telling her that her health migiitsuffer, that we bad forgotten to keep track, of the guide poets. We were not sure that we were hurrying" , the right way. But wo were sure we were hurrying. So was the dry wheel. It screamed, it protested, it insisted that it would de something drsadfnl if some stopwas nob put to its heated and tired condition*, but that mare pursued her own. "Ld Elver was reached and passed, an unfamiliar line of straight poplars waspassed, and in spite of rein and voice, command and entreaty, the inexorable creature* still kept right along about her business. We looked back at the happy hunting-grounds we left behind u»: we* looked forward into-the unknown land into which we were going; and we joined with, the wagon and harness and wheel and which- was shaken About the floor of the “ go-cart,” and the tin luncheon .pail which kept rolling from one-side to the olfcefli and the bottle end tumbler which continually hit each other, and lifted up our voice and cried aloud. Not so that mane. She kept toe road and “went’*' as if aha-was “ followed.” We knew, then, that Unto, and honesty' ' were Uncle Reuben's. We knew, then, that pnadence was Aunt Sally’s. Likethe steady, persistent method of a steamengine and with something of its speed, we all. went forward—no stop, no whoa, no “let up,” no, “rest,” no “peace,” until the smoke from the old chimney of Uncle Beuben/s kitchen loomed into view, aad toe smoke from the hub of thenow desperate wheel puffed about us, when, the mire stopped at- toe door, and instantly resumed her favorite position—her nose on. toe earth* and one foot ntfptoe to seek bar lag.