[CHAPTER II.]
WHO TOOK OLD CHARLIE?
Joe’s errand to the stable on the morning when he went away was not what his sister Jennie supposed. He went there only to say farewell to the horse that had been his friend and companion since he was a little child. He loved “Old Charlie,” and could not go away without caressing him and saying good-by.
The great gray horse, wakened by the opening of the stable door, rose clumsily to his feet, and stared, a little frightened, across his manger toward the visitor who came so early.
“Hello, Charlie!” said Joe, softly, feeling his way forward in the darkness of the stable, and laying his hand on the horse’s forehead. “I’m going away, Charlie; I thought I’d come and say good-by to you.”
He had talked to the horse in this way, as to a human being, ever since he could remember. To him there was nothing absurd in it. Charlie, recognizing his young master, pushed his nose forward and rubbed it against Joe’s breast.
“I’m going away,” repeated the boy, “an’ it isn’t likely we’ll ever see each other again.”
He leaned over the manger, pulled the horse’s head down to his breast, and laid his cheek against it for a moment. Then he went out at the stable door, shut and latched it, hurried across the barnyard and out upon the grassy expanse at the side of the highway.
At the turn in the road Joe looked back. He could see the white front of the old homestead showing dimly against the dark shadows where night lingered. It looked so serene, so quiet, so comfortable!