Year: 1873

When l was q small boy and went tC
school, too young to read, heard thing
| road of a horse that made both my cheeks
wet with hot tears. The man who owned
the horse lived at the Cape of Good Hope
and was called a Dutch boor, or poor
man of Dutch blood who was born on the
soil of that hot land, and titled ii with the
plow and hoe. He was a kind man al
heart, though rough in look and speech
He loved his mare and she loved him, and
was with him by day and near him at
night. She was proud TO have him on
her back, and would dash through
swamps, ponds, and fire too, if he
wished it.


But one day came that was to prove the
faith and love of her stout heart and the
soul of the man. A great storm came
down on the sea. The waves roared and
rose as high as the hills. Their white tops
foamed with rage at the winds that smote
them with all their might. The clouds
tapped them with black wings. Night
drew near, and it was a scene to make one
quake with fear. Right in the midst of
all this rage and roar of wind and sea, a
great ship, with sails rent and helm gone,
came in sight 1t rode on the high, white
waves, straight on reef of rocks too far
from the shore to reach it with rope. The
ship was full of young and old, whose
cries for help could be heard, loud as was
the voice of the storm. Their boats were
gone like the shells of eggs. There was
no wood nor time to build a raft. The
waves leaped on the ship like great white
wolves bent on their prey. How could
one soul of them all be saved?


The men ON shore could but look on the
sad sight The could give no help. They
had no boat nor raft and their hearts
were sick in them. Then the Dutch boor
was seen to draw near at full speed on his
horse. Down he came to the beach, nor
did he stop there one breath of time. lie
spoke word to her which she knew, and
with no touch of whip or spur, she dashed
in and swan the sea to the ships side
with rope tied to her tail. She wheeled
and stamped her way on the white surge
with row of men to the shore. There
she staid but for breath. At the soft
word and touch she knew so well, she
turned and once more plOwed through the
surge to the ship, and brought back load
of young and old. Once more she stood
on the beach, amidst tears of joy that fell
from all eyes. She stood there weak, as
wet with sweat as with the sea. The night
fell down fast on the ship. There were
still few more left ON it, and their cries
for help came on the wind to the shore.
The thoughts that tugged at the brave
mans heart will not be known in this
world The cries from the ship pierced
it through and through. He could not bear
to hear them. He spoke low, soft word to
his horse He put his hand to her neck and
seemed to ask her if she could do it. She
turned her head to him with look that
meant, "If you wish it, l will try" He
did wish it, and she tried, to the last pulse
of her heart. She walked straight out in
the wild sea. All on shore held their
breath at the sight She was weak, but
brave. Now and then the white surge
buried her head; then she rose and shook
the brine out of her eyes. Foot by foot
she neared the ship. Now the last man
had caught the rope. Once more she
turned her head TO the beach. Shouts and
prayers came from it to keep up her
strength. The tug was for life she loved
more than her own. She broke her veins
for it half way tween ship and shore. She
could lift her feet no more. Her name lay
like black sea-weed on the waves while
she tried to catch one more breath. Then,
with groan, she went down with all the
load she bore and wall went out from
the land for the loss of life that had saw
ed from death near ships crew of men.


Thus dared and died in the sea the brave
Dutch boor and his horse, They were, as
friends, one in life, one in death; and
both might well have place and rank with
the best lives and deaths we read of in
books for young or Old.-Etihu BurriH,
in English paper.