But on the third day I felt very ill. My head ached. I had indigestion. I was very feverish. I could eat neither oats nor hay. I couldn’t even get up, and was still lying stretched on my straw when Jack came to see me.
“Why, Neddy is still in bed!” cried Jack. “Get up, Neddy, it is breakfast time. I’ll give you your oats.”
I tried to lift up my head, but it fell heavily back on the straw.
“Oh, he’s ill, Neddy’s ill!” cried Jack, in a great fright. “Robert, quick, quick! Neddy’s very ill!”
“What’s the matter?” said Robert, coming in at the stable door. “I filled his manger early this morning. Ah,” he added, looking at the hay in the manger, which was quite untouched, “there must be something wrong.”
He felt my ears; they were very hot, and my sides were throbbing. He looked serious.
“Oh, what is it? what is it?” cried poor Jack, almost in tears.
“He’s got the fever, Master Jack, from overeating. I told you how it would be if you would give him all those oats. And now we shall have to send for the vet.”
“What’s the vet?” said Jack, looking still more scared.