Horse Stories, and Stories of Other Animals

CHAPTER I.

Charley and George--What they Wanted--The Lesson of Kindness--Story of Old Jane--The Horse that Went for Assistance--A Grateful Patient--Engine-house and Training-school of the New York Fire Department--Wonderful Intelligence of Fire-horses--Likes and Dislikes--Memory in Horses--Anecdotes of Old Army Horses--A Good Story of a Faithful Dog.

I wish I had a horse of my own,” said Charley Graham, as he saw one of his friends riding on a pony which had recently been presented to him by his father.

“And I'd like one, too,” exclaimed his brother George.

“Well,” said Charley? “suppose we ask father about it. Perhaps he'd give them to us, when he knows Henry Johnson has one.”

“That's so,” was the reply, “as I've heard him say he believed in boys knowing how to ride.”

There was an animated discussion as to the probabilities of the granting of the request, and also as to the best form of presenting it. It was agreed that the petition should be made that evening, shortly after dinner. The youths were good students of human nature, and had observed that Mr. Graham was in his best humor after partaking of a satisfactory meal. In this respect he was not unlike the rest of the world.

Charley and George were two youths with whom the readers of “Dog Stories and Dog Lore” are already acquainted. Their adventures in rearing and training two dogs, a Newfoundland and a Black-and-tan Terrier, are familiar to many young people. We are about to learn of their experience with horses and other quadrupeds, and will join them in listening to stories of animal intelligence in various parts of the world.

Mr. Graham received the request of his sons with a complacency that greatly encouraged them, but, before giving an answer, he questioned them as to their knowledge of horses. It was not very extensive, to be sure, as it was limited to a knowledge of the horses then in the stable, and none of these had been trained to the saddle. Next he asked them how they would treat the animals in case they should become the possessors of what they wanted.

“I would treat them kindly,” replied Charley, “and I am sure George would do the same. We have got along so nicely with Rover and Dash, by always treating them kindly, that we believe the same plan will do with horses. Are we right?”

“Yes,” replied Mr. Graham; “the horse has a great deal of affection for his master when the latter is his friend, though perhaps not as much as the dog. Horses may be taught to do a great many things; they vary in intelligence and disposition, like dogs, and men too, for that matter. Where they are intelligent and of good disposition they are capable of an amount of training that will surprise most people.”

“Here is a story which I found to-day in a newspaper,” continued the gentleman, “which will illustrate what I was saying about the intelligence of the horse. It is told by a writer for Every Other Sunday, about a favorite animal that was called Jane. The author of the story says:

“'She was large and strong, a good carriage horse, obedient to the least touch of rein or inflection of voice, and so gentle that she was the best possible playfellow for our youngest, a child of ten years, who was never happier than when in company with Jane.

“'Little Emily was not long in learning to harness after she once made Jane's acquaintance; and the great horse would bend her head down meekly while the child, mounting a chair, succeeded after great effort in putting on the bridle. Again Jane would stand with quiet patience while her little mistress tried to curry her, combed out her long mane and tail, patted and hugged her, ran about and under her, or climbed up for a ride on her broad back.

“'One fair spring day we went for a long drive in the woods. It was so mild and lovely under the oaks and pines, and we found such treasures of flowers that we lingered and lingered, and were tempted to explore some grassy unused wood roads that looked especially inviting. In so doing we lost our way, and before we could again find the open country road the sun had set. Jane started off for home at a good pace; but it was distant several miles, and the darkness gathered fast. It was a cloudy, starless evening. Soon we could not see distinctly even the horse's length in front of us; but we knew Jane could be trusted, so we gave her a loose rein and let her take her own way. She was trotting briskly along a quiet lane, when suddenly she stopped. We could see no approaching team or any obstacle in the way, so bade Jane go on. To our astonishment the horse, for the first time in all our experience of her, refused to obey. She paid no attention to rein or voice, and only tossed her head a little at the unwelcome touch of the whip. We could see that she kept turning her head, and looking back at us in a gentle, wistful way. Clearly something was wrong. The driver threw down the reins, and springing from the carriage, walked up to the horse's head. Then the mystery wras explained.

“'A few paces in front of Jane, seated right in the wheel-rut, was a little child,--a curly-haired, blue-eyed baby of two years. He was patting the earth with one little hand, and looking up in a sweet, wondering way at the great horse, looming above him through the dusk. He was not directly in the horse's path; Jane could have passed him easily enough. How could she know that the swift-turning wheels behind her, which she herself could not? see, would reach and harm the child?

“'Our good Jane! How glad we were of the disobedience that had troubled us so much a moment before! How we stroked and petted and praised her, even before we lifted the pretty baby from his perilous position, and carried him to the nearest house, with injunctions to the young Irish mother, who had many children about her, to take better care of the youngest!'”

“That's a very nice story,” said Charley, as his father paused. “I've read something like it in an English book; it was about a gentleman that was riding one night along a road and happened to be hit on the head by a projecting limb of a tree. He was stunned by the blow and fell to the ground. The horse went at once to the house he had started from, which was about a mile away; the family had gone to bed, but he made such a noise at the door as to rouse them. When some one came out he turned around and immediately led the way to where his master was lying senseless in the road.”

“And I've read about a horse,” remarked George, as his brother paused, “that showed its gratitude to a lady that had befriended it. It was in an open piece of ground near her house and the poor animal's shoulder was raw and bleeding. She coaxed him to come to her by giving him pieces of bread, and then she covered the wound with some adhesive plaster which she spread on a piece of leather. Then the horse went to grazing again, evidently feeling very much better. A little while afterward the horse's master came and led him away.

“The next day the horse came again to the lady's gate, and after looking around a while he put his head over it and whinnied. The lady went out and found that the plaster was gone from the sore spot; she put on another, and the next day the horse came again for the same attention, which was given. After that the plaster remained and the horse recovered. Ever after that when he saw the lady he showed his gratitude by whinnying and then rubbing his nose very gently against her. Sometimes he came to the gate and called her, and she used to go out and pet him, which seemed to give him a great deal of pleasure.”

“After those two stories,” said Mr. Graham, “I think you ought to have the horses you want. I'll buy them for you in a few days, and in the meantime we'll go to the training school for the horses of the New York Fire Department and see how they educate the animals there.”

Charley and George were delighted with the prospect of having horses of their own, and waited with some impatience for the purchase of their steeds. The day after the conversation just narrated they accompanied their father to one of the engine-houses and afterward to the training school. They were greatly interested in what they saw there, and Charley afterward wrote an account of the visit. He was assisted by a reporter for one of the newspapers whom he happened to meet in the engine-house, and we are permitted to copy the following from their story:

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