Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1870-04-14
Old Dick.

! OLD Dick was horse; in fact, still is,
for alght / know. [ speak of him in the
past ense because he has "passed away
| like beautiful dream" from the circle of
whi0 he was so long an ornament, and
now shines in other orbits. Buchepalus
and 2osinante, the steeds of Mazeppa and
Hudbras, grace historic pages; why not
! Old Dick?
| Cd Dick was not remarkable for per-
sond beauty. Only those who look be-
neah mere surface show, at character,
would have been attracted to him. Not
being over familiar with equine vernacu-
hr-in other words, horse talk-I fear l
shall fail to do Justice to his points, which
we've numerous. But perhaps fond ap-
1reeiation of his merits may atone in a
manner for any lack of scientific knowledge.
IL am convinced he was what is called a
horse of snowy action. He would so peg
away with his short legs that you would
Ibe convinced you were whirling along at
break-neck speed, until you happened to
NOTICE how wonderfully little ground you
got over, compared with Dicks demon
stations. 1t was all his artfulness. Often
Disappointment and nippings in
the bud had made him as sly as J. B. in
IDombey, a second "artfu1 dodger," had
Ialso impaired touch of cynicism to his
naturally trustful disposition. Bitter ex.
perience had taught him but too we'll that
he might be dragged forth from the bar
itish retirement of his warm stable at the
most unexpected moments, to be trotted
all over town in the cold, on errands in
which he could see no earthly good. Sell
dom was he INDUCED in those cross roads
l. -, ~ oh &c
in which his heart delighted. Full often
when he was rushing, hght-hearted and
ambius crectis, into his stable, was he
sternly and ruthlessly compelled to turn
reluctantly away, and "drag his slow
length along" another weary mile. Why
should he sometimes be whipped and urg-
ed on 70 his fastest speed, merely because
dinner time was near, and again be held
back, restrained in his fiery career, made
10 walk a funeral pace, because some one
chose to loiter in the romantic shade OF
he gorge? All this had given him sort
Of Byronic contempt for those whimsical
objects called human beings, lofty indif-
brence to all sublunary affairs. He with
drew into himself, and became philoso-
rhical. Where he was stopped, there
Ie stood, be it for half day,
lead down, wrapt in high communings.
Once started, he struck into his
own Jog, and steadfastly continued there
in to the end, all threats or cajolements to
the contrary Notwithstanding. Yet he
was not without spice of malice. He
knew full we'll that somehow he had con-
rived to inspire in the breast of his old
mistress a wholesome awe of him, as a
fiery untamed eourser of unequaled spirit
and impetuosity. This impression he was
careful to keep fresh in her mind by the
most unexpected pranks and freaks when
she was at the helm. His great forte was
shying at nothing, simply oat of pure per
versity. Jogging along with his head
down, in q half dead manner, calculated
to disarm the most suspicious mind, sud
denly with pranoe and snort, away he
would dart, "urging on his wild career" in
quite Mazeppian style.
After all. half suspect the charm in
vesting Old Dick came largely from assoc
citation. He was was wont TO present
himself before the public with the follow
ing agreeable accessories: A light car
rage, gaily striped carriage blanket, a
fair driver, with jaunty hat tipped down
la mode over brightly ripping hair,
possibly the two exemplary dogs, Hans
and Calamity, acting as out runners, the
whole procession radient with u general
air of youth, health, happiness, good
time. How many, many pretty girls
has Old Dick taken out driving in his
time. An ordinary horse might well have
been proud of his surroundings, but Old
Dick was not an ordinary horse.
Oh, how many pic-nics, excursions,
good times Old Dick must remember, all
of which he saw, and part of which he
was! What opportunities for developing
any latent romance lying dormant in his
stole breast! What ramblings bright
spring mornings, down through old Deer
field, where the road winds through the
unfenced meadows close by the rivers
side, and but for bird songs and the gentle
tapping of the water on pebbly shores,
call was sunny, and bright, and still"
What adventures of trying new roads,
getting delightfully."- lost, inquiring the
way at retired farm houses where events
were scarce and therefore welcome, where
the whole family turned out to otficlate
as "guides, philosophers and friends" and
where Hans and Calamity invariably fell
into difficulties with the resident dogs.
What saunterings down country lanes,
stopping to pick flowers and autumn
leaves, what comings home laden with
branches and bushes like second Blrnam
wood come to Dunsinane! What cross
ings of the Connecticut in rickety old
ferry-boats, just as the sun was setting,
and the radiant western clouds reflected
in the deep, still water, glorified the river,
the whole woodland solitude. what
strollings by moonlight through the
dusky, solemn depths OF the woods, then