gate; the others were common stalls, good stalls, but not nearly so
large. It had a low rack for hay and a low manger for corn; it was
called a box stall, because the horse that was put into it was not tied
up, but left loose, to do as he liked. It is a great thing to have a box
stall.

Into this fine box the groom put me; it was clean, sweet, and airy. I
never was in a better box than that, and the sides were not so high but
that I could see all that went on through the iron rails that were at
the top.

He gave me some very nice oats, patted me, spoke kindly, and then went
away.

When I had eaten my oats, I looked round. In the stall next to mine
stood a little fat gray pony, with a thick mane and tail, a very pretty
head, and a pert little nose. I put my head up to the iron rails at the
top of my box, and said, "How do you do? What is your name?"

He turned round as far as his halter would allow, held up his head, and
said, "My name is Merrylegs. I am very handsome. I carry the young
ladies on my back, and sometimes I take our mistress out in the low
cart. They think a great deal of me, and so does James. Are you going to
live next door to me in the box?"

I said, "Yes."

"Well, then," he said, "I hope you are good-tempered; I do not like any
one next door who bites." Just then a horse's head looked over from
the stall beyond; the ears were laid back, and the eye looked rather