WHERE THE PONY CAME FROM.
Fred was the owner of a beautiful little Arabian horse, which made him the envy of every boy of his acquaintance. This horse was the Christmas gift of his father. Christmas eve he had been secretly led to Mr. Martin’s stable, that in the morning Fred might receive a happy surprise. Early Christmas morning Fred was sent to the stable on some trifling errand, and what was his astonishment to see a new horse quietly munching his breakfast. His delight knew no bounds when he found a blue ribbon tied around the pony’s neck (for Fred at once called him a pony), to which was attached a card, on which was written:
“Fred Martin. From his affectionate father, Christmas, 1877.”
The pony had been purchased from an Arab. This Arab with his little family had wandered far from his own country, and at length had settled in the environs of Smyrna. Through sickness and poverty he was compelled to part with his beautiful horse, his children crying bitterly, and fondly caressing him, as he was led away from the tent.
Mr. Martin’s conscience almost smote him as he witnessed this poor family’s grief; but the Arab motioned to him to hasten away, signifying that the children would soon forget their sorrow.
The pony, as he was called, was of the purest Arabian blood. He was so gentle that Fred’s little sisters ran into his stall and played without hesitation around his feet. Yet he had all the metal and fire of his royal race. In color he was milk-white, and his neck arched like the curve of an ivory bow. His head was small and elegant; so perfect, indeed, that an artist had taken it as a model for a handsome ideal Arabian in a fine picture he was painting. The pony’s ears were satin-like, and responded to the slightest impression with a quick, tremulous movement that betokened the keenest intelligence. His eyes beamed with affection and loyalty. Ladies delighted to run their fingers through his soft, silken hair; and they loved to pet him as he held his nose to them to be stroked, as they would a beautiful child.
Fred had read the lives of Alexander the Great and Sir Walter Scott. He had been charmed by the allusions to their fondness for riding and hunting in their boyhood days, and he emulated them in many a gallop and chase among the hills surrounding the city. Many a hare and partridge had he run down and shot, and brought home in triumph hanging to the pommel of his saddle. Many a time he had startled the shepherds and frightened their sheep by dashing upon them around some sharp curve, for which misdemeanor he had to put spurs to the pony to escape the shepherds’ wrath. Besides, he had ridden to many places which travellers go thousands of miles to see. He could point out the different layers in the walls of the old castle overlooking the city, which was first built by Alexander the Great, and last by the Saracens. He could guide travellers to the beautiful ruins of an ancient temple erected to Homer; and several times he had ridden into the very cave where many scholars believe the great poet Homer at one time lived. These excursions were attended by many dangers, but somehow Fred came out of them unharmed.
After General Grant had been several days in Smyrna, Fred was overjoyed at receiving an invitation to accompany him on a grand excursion to the ruined city of Ephesus, lying fifty miles from Smyrna. His father told him that he might take the pony with him, as several freight-cars were to be filled with horses and donkeys for the use of the party. The Pasha—the governor of that district of Turkey—had arranged for this excursion as his greatest compliment to General Grant. He chartered a large train; ordered a mounted body-guard of Turkish officers to proceed to Ephesus, and a regiment of troops to receive the General at the depot with military honors. The party needed a strong military escort, for at Ephesus there are robbers who live in caves, and watch for distinguished visitors, whom they sometimes capture, and demand a heavy ransom for their release.
Fred galloped early to the depot. He kept the pony quiet amid the general confusion, with extreme difficulty. The donkey drivers were mercilessly pounding the donkeys, and yelling at them, to get them into the car; the grooms were struggling with the restive horses; dogs were yelping; the soldiers were going through their exercises, and there was a bewildering medley of unpleasant sounds.