"Well, we all pulled through except Filly's colt. He keeled over one morning, poor fellow! and was dragged out and buried under the oaks in the high pasture. But for some reason, I didn't pick up as quick as the others. The cough held on, and I was pestered for breath, and I didn't get back my strength; and what I ate didn't seem to fatten me up much, for Master Fred says one day, laughing, 'Well, Old Star, we've saved your skin and bones, and that's about all!' However, I got round again, only my legs had a bad habit of giving way under me, without the least bit of warning.
"Our Ada did all she could to keep me up, holding a tight rein, and saying, 'Steady, Star! steady!' when she saw any signs of stumbling. But trying to keep from it seemed to make me do it all the more, and down I would come on my poor knees and spill those children out of the wagon, like blackberries from a full basket.
"One day, after this had happened, master told our Ada she was not to drive me any more, and before I had got over feeling bad about that, there came some thing a great deal worse; for I was standing by the pump in the backyard one day, and master and mistress were in the porch, and I heard him tell her he had had an offer from Jones the milkman, to buy me. 'Twould be an easy place, and he'd promised to treat me well, and he'd about made up his mind to take up with it; for he couldn't afford to keep a horse on the place that—well, I don't care to repeat the rest of the speech. 'Twas rather hard on me, but I haven't laid it up against master. Fact is, he had a deal to worry him about that time, for he was disappointed in the wheat crop, and the heavy rains had damaged his corn, and he was feeling mighty poor.
"But mistress was up in arms in a minute. 'What, sell Star!' says she, 'our good, faithful Star, who's been in the family ever since you were a boy! and to Ki Jones to peddle milk round Skipton Mills and Hull Station! O pa!' says mistress, says she, 'have we got down so low as that? Why 't would break our Ada's heart, and mine too, to see Star hitched to a milk-cart. Rather than have you do that, says she, 'I'll go in rags, and keep the children on mush and molasses;' and she put her apron to her eyes.
"'Well, well, don't fret!' says master,—and I thought he looked kind o' ashamed,—'I haven't sold him yet I've a notion to turn him out to grass a while, and see what that'll do for him,' So the next day he put me in this pasture.
"You see that plank bridge yonder, over the creek? That's where our Ada fell into the water. Master has put up a railing, and made all safe since the accident happened. 'T was a risky place always, though the children have crossed it hundreds of times, and none of them ever tumbled over before.
"But I hadn't been here a week, when one sunshiny afternoon our Ada came through the pasture, on her way to visit the sick Simmonses—there's always some of that tribe down with the chills. She came running up to me—her little basket, full of goodies, on her arm,—stopped to talk a minute and feed me an apple, and then passed along, while I went on nibbling grass, till I heard a scream and a splash, and knew, all in a minute, she must have fallen off the plank bridge into the water. Dear! dear! what was to be done? I ran to the fence, and looked up and down the road. Some men were burning brush at the far end of the next field. I galloped toward them, and back again to the creek, and whinnied and snorted, and tried my best to make them understand that they were needed; but they didn't appear to notice, and I just made up my mind, that if any thing was done to save our Ada from drowning, I was the one to do it.
"I made my way through the alder-bushes down by the bank, to a place where the current sets close in shore. At first I couldn't see any thing, then all at once, there floated on the muddy water close to me, the little red shawl she wore, then a hand and arm, and her white face and brown hair all streaming. I caught at her clothes, and though Ada is a stout girl of her age, and the wet things added a deal to her weight, I lifted her well out of the water. I remember thinking, 'If only my poor legs don't give out, I shall do very well,' And they didn't give out, for when help came—it seems those men in the field had noticed me, and came to see what was the matter—they found me all in a lather of sweat, and my eyes starting out of their sockets, but with my feet braced against a rock, keeping our Ada's head and shoulders well above water.
"They got her home as quick as they could, and put her to bed between hot blankets, and the next day she was none the worse for her ducking, though she carried the print of my teeth in her tender flesh for many a day; for how was I to know where the child's clothes left off and her side began.
"Of course they made a great fuss over me. Mistress came running to meet me, and put both arms around my neck, and said: 'O Star, you have saved our darling's life!' and the little ones hugged and kissed me, and the boys took turns rubbing me down; and I stood knee deep in my stall that night in fresh straw, and besides my measure of oats, had a warm mash, three cookies, and half a pumpkin-pie for my supper.