The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1876-05-11

She hoped up on one leg and ambled on
another. The other kept up quick pat
tering trot, and the fourth, as we say in
races, did the running" Her head
she held perfectly stiff. Her nose was
slightly elevated heavenward, and it did
not vary an inch in three miles. We
laughed at her and enjoyed her.
We paid no attention to the driving,
but, seeing she was perfectly safe, gazed
about us on the exquisite mountain seen
cry, the caps of snow glistening in the
glorious light of the fresh, clear day, the
first glimpses of green along the book
ways, the budding of the willows, the
somber darkness of the pine-clad hills
and all the infinite tiny beauties which 70
the close observer are never absent from
the country landscape.
As we were curiously watching the
| flight of three black crows" which
were making specks of themselves across
a mountain hollow, we noticed the mare
had quickened her pace. The old wagon
began to jingle its loose screws in little
livelier manner, and the creak of wheel
which needed oiling began to be sugges-
tive. What caused this increase in veloc-
| ity we knew not and cared not. We drew
the rein "taut," as we had been advised,
and were pleased at our rate of speed.
The mare kept on. She went gradual
~ faster. How she went no tongue can
tell. There is no language capable of
describing the sixteen ways she went at
once. But she kept in the road, and she
minded her business" well. She went
| little faster all the time. She began to
get down to a three minute gait. We
concluded this was swift enough for CON-
fort. Up hill and down, over gullies and
stones, on she went. We mildly insin-
uated that she might get tired. We
pulled on the reins and shouted whoa"
We got tired. That mare continued to
get along-slowly but surely getting down
to 80. We were by this time little
anxious. We had been so busy chatting
in friendly way to the mare, telling her
that her health might suffer, that we had
forgotten to keep track of the guide posts.
We were not sure that we were hurrying
the right way. But we were sure we were
hurrying. So was the dry wheel. 1t
screamed, it protested, it insisted that it
would do something dreadful if some stop
was not put to its heated and tired con-
dition; but that mare pursued her own
way.
Mad River was reached and passed, an
unfamiliar line of straight poplars was
passed, and in spite of rein and voice,
command and entreaty, the memorable
creature still kept right along about her
business. We looked back at the happy
hunting grounds we left behind US; We
looked forward into the unknown land
into which we were going; and we joined
with the wagon and harness and wheel
and tackle, which was shaken about the
floor of the "go-cart," and the tin lunch
con pail which kept rolling from one side
to the other, and the bottle and tumbler
which continually hit each other, and lift
ed up our voice and cried aloud. Not so
that mare. She kept the road and event"
as if she was " followed"
We knew, then, that truth and honesty
were Uncle Reuben's We knew, then,
that prudence was Aunt Sally's. Like
the steady, persistent method of steam
engine and with something of its speed,
we all went forward-no stop, no whoa,
no " let up" no, crest" no "peace,"
until the smoke from the old chimney of
Uncle Reuben's kitchen doomed into
view, and the smoke from the hub of the
now desperate wheel pulled about us,
when the mare stopped at the door, and
instantly resumed her favorite position
her nose on the earth, and one foot tip
toe to rest her lie