The weekly Ottumwa courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1857-1872, 1860-04-19
From the Ladies' Home Magazine.
/" "A EENfatrcl Dollars"
CHAPTER /,
RY VIRGINIA p. TOWNSEND.

"My pony has grown very lame coming
Gown the road, so stopped here to see f
anybody could tell me what is the matter "
ohe bad one of these bright young voices
that slid along the words as lightly Us one Of
Moore's poems slides into some sweet air
despair of conveying that picture to you
with any painting of my pen, and yet it was
such perfect one, so full of fine shades and
contrasts, 50 real, 50 inpromptn yet so per-
fccted, that cannot pass by it.
In the frontisplcce, then, was the girl
speaker, with one hand graspng small sill
yer-mounted riding-whip, and the fingers of
the other closed over her bride.
She was pretty creature, whose life must
have lowered somewhere about its fourteenth
year, with sweet, delicate face, where smiles
were forever sliding in and out, chasing them
selves ur into the deep blue eyes, and round
among the 6iluples that sat by the small,
coral mouth Her features were clear and
soft, but with nothing of that dali lo0k which
one often meets with in girls OF her aga, and
which is more repellant than almost any
conceivable degree Of homeliness, ,gespecialIy
to "a shrewd observer, whois tolerabIy certain
what sort of a woman it prophesies.
The girl wore simple black riding dress,
whose heavy folds almost swept the grass.
and the little dainty riding cap with its soli-
tary sable plume brushing her shoulder, gave
q certain dignity and picturesqueness to the
bright face and small figure She sat her
horse with easy, natural grace He was
small, black, glossy, beautiful Canadian
pony, and his large, bright eyes had in them
a look of almost human Intelligence.
In the background was blacksmith's
shop, or shed, as the little, old, sooty, tumble
down structure had better been denomina-
ted.
A boy stood in the door Of this building,
holding horse shoe in one hand, for he had
sprung from the forge where he was heating
it, at the girls summons he was small for
his years, which were fifteen. A straw hat,
ragged and rimless, was set down on thick,
tangled heap Of hair he wore a blue cotton
shirt, and an old patched pair of trowsers,
his face and hands were begrimed and sooty
from his recent labor, and though he added
great deal 10 the effect of the picture, he
was dirty, ragged, poverty -stricked spec
tacle.
''There's nobody else in the shop, but per-
haps can tell what's hurt him." said the
boy, answering the girls question in a
straightforward, respectful way, that some
how would have made you turn and look 1T
him again.
She did; the boys reply, and not his ap-
pearance, must have decided her, for she
answered a little doubtfully, "Weil, | shall
be much obliged to you fyou will look and
see, as hate to keep on, he limps So"
The boy came forward. Which foot is it 2"
he asked.
"The right forefoot."
ale wont kick, will he?"
ooh, no, he's perfectly gentle. You're a
good horse, amt you, Valiant ?" and she
stroked the glossy neck of the animal with
her small hand, while the boy raised his leg
and examined il carefully.
''IIe's stuck nail into it, and it hurts
him."
''Oh, dear, what shall do ~
81 guess can take il out for you I've
seen Uncle Jake do it good mary times"
"But wont it hurt him s''
"Not much not half so much as it does
now"
swell, then, should like to have you try"
In few moments the boy returned with
an old pair of forceps. Hadn't you better
get of p he said "most horses are likely
to rear and kick afore the nail comes out ?''
"Oh, I'm not in the least afraid" and she
sat still, now watching the boy as he set about