Full soon he was rewarded by a sight of the gleaming eye of his neighbor at the same aperture.
For a moment they gazed in silence; then True took a step forward, and raising his nose to the top of the partition met the firm tip of his father’s.
Without further demonstration an affection sprang up between the two.
In the course of time the hostler came to lead the new horse out, in the deepening twilight, to show him to some visitors. The interest True took in the performance, one could be reasonably certain, was not on account of the visitors, but because he was well aware of his splendid father’s interest and admiration.
That night when all was quiet the old war-horse said:
“You are like your mother, my son, I remember her well—and a fine, noble mare she was, to be sure. Her hoof beat music from the path and she struck the road with the same nervous tread that I see you have—as a pigeon in full career repulses the air. She scoffed at hills and mounted them with a dash of spirited flight, as if she joyed in their difficulties.”
True recalled his mother’s admiration of his father, and his heart beat gratefully at these words. He, too, remembered Gipsey’s poetic motion, her rhythmic step, as if she trod an even melody, and her willingness to take a hill.
“As his name is, so is he,
If you believe not, come and see!”