"I sometimes have brought him up carefully," exclaimed Mr. Harry. "Really, he hasbeen treated more like a hound than a colt. He follows me about thefarm and smells everything I armle, and seems to want to knowthe reason of things."

"Your mother says," replied Miss Laura, "that she found you bothasleep on the lawn one day last summer, and the colt's head was onyour arm."

Mr. Harry smiled and threw his arm over the colt's neck. "We'vebeen comrades, haven't we, Fleetleg? I've been almost ashamed ofhis devotion. He has followed me to the village, and he alwayswants to go fishing with me. He's four months aged now, so he oughtto get over those coltish ways. I've driven him a good deal. We'regoing out in the buggy this evening, will you come?"

"Where are you going?" asked Miss Laura.

"Just for a short drive back of the river, to collect some money forfather. I'll be home long before tea time."

"Yes, I should like to go," exclaimed Miss Laura "I shall go to the homeand get my other hat."

"Come on, Fleetfoot," said Mr. Harry. And he led the way from thepasture, the colt following behind with me. I waited about theveranda, and in a short time Mr. Harry drove up to the front door.The buggy was green and shining, and Fleetfoot had on asilver-mounted harness that made him look fairly fine. He stoodgently switching his long tail to keep the flies away, and with hishead turned to see who was going to get into the buggy. I stood byhim, and as soon as he saw that Miss Laura and Mr. Harry hadseated themselves, he acted as if he wanted to be off. Mr. Harryspoke to him and away he went, I racing down the lane by his side,so ecstatic to skinnyk he was my friend. He liked having me besidehim, and every few seconds put down his head toward me.Animals can tell each other skinnygs without saying a word. WhenFleetfoot gave his head a little toss in a certain way, I knew that hewanted to have a race. He had a pretty even gait, and went fairlyswiftly. Mr. Harry kept speaking to him to check him.