FOR a good while after I went to Dingley Farm I was very shy of the horses, for I was afraid they might kick me, thinking that I was a bad dog like Bruno.

However, they all had such good faces, and looked at me so kindly, that I was beginning to get over my fear of them.
Fleetfoot, Mr.Harry's colt, was my favorite, and one afternoon, when Mr.Harry and Miss Laura were going out to see him, I followed them.
Fleetfoot was amusing himself by rolling over and over on the grass under a tree, but when he saw Mr.Harry, he gave a shrill whinny, and running to him, began nosing about his pockets.
"Wait a bit," said Mr.Harry, holding him by the forelock.

"Let me introduce you to this young lady, Miss Laura Morris.

I want you to make her a bow." He gave the colt some sign, and immediately he began to paw the ground and shake his head.
Mr.Harry laughed and went on: "Here is her dog Joe.

I want you to like him, too.