“It would not bite a maiden’s cheek, would it?” she cooed in his ready ear, and he trembled with joy at the sound. Young Mistress Lloyd’s “way with horses” was known from Maryland to Boston.
The Coxcomb flicked his riding boot impatiently with his whip. This annoyed Beautiful Bay, who, thinking to please the maid, turned abruptly to him and bared his teeth, flattening his ears.
The popinjay sprang to one side.
“He can’t abide smells!” explained the hostler, apologetically, as he led the old horse back into his stable.
And this was the first time that True saw Mistress Lloyd, of Maryland; though she had taken no notice of him, he never forgot it.
Deeply attached did the two horses become to each other, and Old Worldly-Wise taught Young Innocence much that was afterwards of use to him. He told him of the city, where men sat, far into the night, and played cards or other games by the glare of torchlight or wax candle; of how they danced with or serenaded fair ladies till cock-crow. It contrasted strangely with True’s former quiet nights and peaceful days in the Valley of the Connecticut, but it interested him intensely and awakened longings within him.
He marvelled to see Beautiful Bay active and spirited enough at his age to clear a five-barred gate like a greyhound, and to see his bearing under the saddle alike youthful and stylish.
The old horse had a fund of anecdotes to impart about the Desert and its traditions.
“Arabs,” he said, “think it wicked to change their coursers into beasts of burden and tillage. Why did Allah make the ox for the plough and the camel to transport merchandise, if not that the horse was for the race?”
True had no answer ready, so Beautiful Bay continued: