“But this particular year it wasn’t a pleasure to look forward to the fair at all, even though there was to be a balloon ascension. For when we went to the fair Father was going to take Prince along and sell him to a horse dealer. Father had raised Prince, and we all loved him, especially Charlie and I. He was nine years old, but he still looked like a colt. His coat was brown and glossy, and he was as playful and active as he had ever been. When he had been a colt, the older children had petted him and fed him sugar. Charlie and I had taken it up when they left off, so that he had always been used to children and loved them.
“But Prince had a bad habit, and that was the reason he was to be sold. He balked whenever a grown person rode or drove him. The only thing he was any good for at all was carrying Charlie and me to the store for Mother. He would take us both at once or one at a time wherever we wanted to go and never balk once while we were on his back. Father said that if Charlie and I had been older he would have kept Prince, but by the time we would need a horse Prince would be too old to be of much use. If he could even have been trusted to take Mother to church and back when the roads were too rough to drive, Father would not have sold him. But he was sure to stop some place or other, no matter how cold the day, and refuse to budge until he got ready. So Father said he could not afford to keep him any longer, and as none of our neighbors would want him he would sell him to the horse dealer for what he could get. This wouldn’t be much, for of course Father would tell the man that Prince balked.
“So we went to the fair as usual, except that Prince went along and was hitched with the other horses to the fence until Father should get ready to see the horse dealer some time after dinner.
“I went with Mother to Floral Hall, which was just a little, whitewashed building, and looked at quilts and fancy work and cakes and pies and pianos and stoves and pumpkins and potatoes until I got tired and wandered on ahead of Mother—who was busily talking to some people she knew—to the door, and there was Charlie waiting for us.
“He had been out to see the cattle and poultry. He said our white-faced steer and Mother’s bronze turkeys had taken blue ribbons and he wanted me to come and see them.
“As we passed our horses, Prince whinnied, and I suggested that we say good-by to Prince again. So we went over to where he was hitched to the fence. We petted him and fed him an apple that Charlie had in his pocket, and then Charlie said we would take a last ride. So he got on first and I climbed up behind him and put my arms around his waist and we were off. For a while Prince trotted about on the grass, and then we came to an opening that led into the race track. Before we realized what he was doing, Prince had turned through this opening into the circular track.
“Two men were standing at the entrance talking. One of them was an old man. The other, a big man with a wide-rimmed felt hat and high-topped boots, waved a riding whip at us and called out something that we did not hear as we passed, but Prince kept right on. Charlie could have turned him around, but he wouldn’t, though I begged him to. The trainers were exercising their horses on the track, but Prince paid no attention to anything, looking neither to right nor to left. We must have been a queer sight—two children riding bareback on a big farm horse around the race track. By the time we got to the grandstand quite a crowd had gathered and they cheered us loudly as we passed. Charlie, not to be outdone, waved his hat in return.
Prince turned through the opening that led to the race track