A HORSE THAT LOVED TEA.
Roxbury, Mass. Dear Jack-in-the-Pulpit: This is a true story of Mary's horse. He was just as black as a coal all over, except a pretty white star on his forehead.
Once in two or three weeks Mary had him take tea with her and her little brother and sisters. She went to the stable where he lived with Kate and Nell, two pretty twin ponies, and said to him:
"Come, Jack! Don't you want some, tea?"
At that, he came right up to her, and found out the buttons on her dress, and tried to pull them off, and then untied her apron strings.
"Now, Jack," Mary said, "tea is all ready. Come along!"—and he followed her along the walk to the back door and up the three steps into the house.
What a clatter his iron shoes made along the entry to the dining-room!
Harry and Annie and Fanny rushed out, crying:
"Oh, mamma! Here's Jack coming to tea!"
Then mamma filled a large bowl with tea, put in plenty of milk and three or four pieces of white sugar (for Jack had a sweet tooth), and cut a slice of bread into pieces, and put them on a plate, with a doughnut or piece of gingerbread. And Mary said:
"Now, Jack, come up to the table!"
You see, he was too big to sit in a chair; but he came close up to the table and stood there, and drank his tea without slopping any over, and ate up his bread and cake. And when he had done, what do you think he did? Why, he went up to the piano that stood in a corner of the room and smelled the keys, and looked round at Mary. That was to ask her to play him a tune before he went home.
Then she said, "Oh, you dear Jack! I know what you want!" And she sat down and played some merry tune, while he pricked up his ears and put his nose down close to her fingers, he was so pleased. Then he rubbed her shoulder with his nose, and Mary played another tune for him.
"Now, Jack," mamma said, "you've had a nice time; but you must go back to your stable. Kate and Nell will miss you if you stay longer."
Then Mary opened the dining-room door, and Jack followed her down the long entry and out to the stable, just like a dog.—Yours truly, B.P.