"Is he gentle, father ?" "Yes, Dolly, as gentle as your own kitten; come and pat him." At once the little hand was patting about all over my shoulder without fear.

How good it felt! "Let me get him a bran mash while you rub him down," said the mother.
"Do, Polly, it's just what he wants; and I know you've got a beautiful mash ready for me." I was led into a comfortable, clean-smelling stall with plenty of dry straw, and after a capital supper, I lay down, thinking I was going to be happy..