Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1905-12-07

black mud still clinging to his fetlocks,
he at last eased down with sobbing
breath and slowed the tumultuous gallop
to canter.
| Oh, browning infamy, Was there no
limit to these degradations? He was no
longer even to choose his own pace.
| Since he had chosen to gallop far at
| his own will he must now gallop farther
still t the will of another. A spur
struck home on either flank A singing
| whip-lash fell across his shoulder. He
| bounded his own height in the air at the
pain and the shame of it. Then, for
getting his weary limbs forgetting his
painting, reeking sides, forgetting every
thing save this intolerable insult and the
burning spirit within, he plunged off once
more upon his furious gallop. He was
out on the heather slopes again and
heading for Weydown Common. On he
flew, and on. But again his brain failed
him and again his limbs trembled be-
meath him. and yet again he strove 10
ease his pace, only to be driven onward
by the cruel spur and the falling lash
He was blind and giddy with fatigue
He saw no longer where he placed his
feet, he cared no longer whittier he went.
but his one mad longing was to get
away from this dreadful thing. this tor
ture which chung to him and would not
let him CO. Through Thursley village he
passed, his eyes straining in his agony
his heart bursting within him, and he had
won his way to the crest of Thursley
Down, still stung forward by stab and
| blow. when his spirit weakened. his giant
strength ebbed out of him. and with one
deep sob of agony the yellow horse sank
among the heather. So sudden was the
fall, thakd Nigel 8ffs& forward over his
shoulder, and beast and man lay pros
trate and gasping whilst the last red rim
| of the sun sank behind Butser and the
| first stars cleaned in violet sky.
The young squire was the first TO re-
cover, and kneeling by the painting over
| wrought horse he passed his hand gently
over the tangled name and down the
| foam-f1ecked face. The red eye rolled
up at him; but it was wonder, not ha-
| tired, a prayersand not threat. which
he could read in it. AS he stroked the
reeking muzzle. the horse whinnied gent
| 1y and thrust his nose into the hollow
| of his hand 1t was enough. 1t was
the end of the contest the acceptance OF
| new conditions by chivairous foe from
a chivalrous victor.
| "You are my horse. Pommers" Nigel
whispered. and he laid his cheek against
| the cranlng mead. / KNOW you foHi-
mers, and you know me, and with the
help OF st. Paul we shall teach some
other folk to know US both. Now let us
walk together as far as this moorland
pond, for indeed I wot not whether 1t Is
you or who need the water most"
And so it was that some belated MONKS
of Waverley. passing homeward from the
outer farms, saw a strange sight which
they carried on with them so that
it reached that very night the
ears both Of sacrist and Of abbot For.
as they passed through Tilford they had
! seen horse and man walking side by side
and head by head up the manor-house
lane. And when they had raised their
lanthorns on the pair 1t was none other
than the young squire himself who was
leading home. as shepherd leads a lamb.
the fearsome yellow horse Of Crooksbury.