"Wa-al, I never!" Grandpa sighed in deep contentment. "Them sucky-smacky sounds is purtier 'n a hull flock o' meadow larks!"
Maureen brushed away a tear. How could a creature be so young and breakable-looking, and yet so spunky? "Why, I feel like I'm its grandma!" she whispered shyly. "And hasn't it got the longest eye-winkers and the curliest tail you most ever saw?"
Paul whispered too. "Look at the strange marking on her forehead—it's in the shape of a new sickle moon! I know!" he exulted. "That's 'cause she was born in the time of the new moon."
Grandpa stared. "She's the onliest colt I ever see with a markin' like that."
"Yes," Dr. Finney said. "There's nothing like her on the Eastern Shore."
"Likely not in all the world," Paul said.
After the colt had drunk her fill, Misty came to the door and nickered happily, sniffing Paul and Maureen by turns.