River Falls journal. [volume] (River Falls, Pierce County, Wis.) 1872-2019, 1879-09-25
Only a Horse-Car Horse.

Only a horse-car horse, and a bobtail
car at that.
O, the weary miles he has tugged at
that car, day in and out, night in and
out, through rain and sunshine, snow
storm and sunstroke.
| Curses and blows and the cruel, rack
ing turns in the on-i,ound paths. Not
much to eat and never kind word save
from the street Arab with heart softer
than his lace.
Only question of time when the lin
it of endurance shall have come. Moth
ing to look forward to but the treadmill
the curses and the racking turns IN the
track. Don't you suppose horse needs
something pleasant to expect as well as
a man2
A blocking of the cars All crowded
Everybody going home, from the day IS
work. Everybody tired, hungry, IN a
hurry, cross. What's the delay2 Only
horse down on the curve by the Tombs
More cursing and angry shouting and
pulling and kicking-yes kicking the
gaunt, ribstaring sidesrof that poor horse
Weak, heated, hungry, worn out to the
last atom OF endurance, the last pound
OF pulling power, he has slipped and
blocked the track.
They may make the air blue with their
cursing, they may kick and beat the hol-
low sides that echo like dismal drum :;
they may be hungry and in hurry and
miss their dinners, trains and engage
ments.
That old car horse will never get up
again.
That's right. Don't stop to be gentle
or the least bit tender, OF half human
Hitch rope to his hind legs and let half
hundred lusty men and boys pull and
haul and tug to get the obstacle off the
track.
Pshaw! don't mind that he groans
most pitifully and shudoers as you tear
his side against the track and the stones
At last he is off, and in the gutter out
Of the way. But he isn't dead yet. o,
no!
What is he thinking of? Days when
he was a colt and frisked in the clover
stubble and dashed away through the
woods along the brook. All, those were
days indeed Then came the time when
he snuffed the battle from afar, his young
master riding hlm-then the mad charge
the flying shot the bursting of shells
the rushing upon the ramparts-the
leapin-, of the ditch-the wild shout of
victory. All, those were days indeed!
And now nothing but poor, worm to-
death car horse left in the gutter to die.
o, for bedding of straw for the aching
bones, for deep draught of cool water
for the foaming fevered mouth.
God bless the boy He has only shirt
and ragged pair of trousers. He is DIR
ty. He is one of the miserable urchins
you have often kicked from the rear plat
form OF a bobtail car. But God bless him
all the same. He has brought pail of
water and tugs at the head of the pros
trate horse to help him reach the water.
Between them half of it is lost, but the
horse got one good gulp at it.
And wherever did that boy steal that
straw that he is now tucking under the
horse head? Never mind. Only once
does the poor brute open his eyes If dy-
ing eyes ever said "God bless your the
dying eyes of that street car horse said it
to the dirty street Arab on his knees in
the gutter by the horses head.
1t is dirty hand that strokes the fore
lock and name. You wouldn't have that
dirty hand touch you for the world. But
the dead street car horse by the Tombs
corner doesn't mind it.