cordiality, wholly a thing of the past, were jubilant that I had been so
imposed upon by some one, even if they had failed. And their looks, as
they wheeled rapidly by me, as I crept along with the poor, suffering,
limping "Nellie," were almost more than I could endure.

Horses were again brought for inspection, and there was a repetition of
previous horrors. At last a man came from Mossgrown. He had an honest
face; he knew of a man who knew of a man whose brother had just the
horse for me, "sound, stylish, kind, gentle as a lamb, fast as the
wind." Profiting by experience, I said I would look at it. Next day, a
young man, gawky and seemingly unsophisticated, brought the animal. It
looked well enough, and I was so tired. He was anxious to sell, but
only because he was going to be married and go West; needed money. And
he said with sweet simplicity: "Now I ain't no jockey, I ain't! You
needn't be afeard of me--I say just what I mean. I want spot cash, I do,
and you can have horse, carriage, and harness for $125 down." He gave me
a short drive, and we did go "like the wind." I thought the steed very
hard to hold in, but he convinced me that it was not so. I decided to
take the creature a week on trial, which was a blow to that guileless
young man. And that very afternoon I started for the long, pleasant
drive I had been dreaming about since early spring.

The horse looked quiet enough, but I concluded to take my German
domestic along for extra safety. I remembered his drawling direction,
"Doan't pull up the reins unless you want him to go pretty lively," so
held the reins rather loosely for a moment only, for this last hope
wheeled round the corner as if possessed, and after trotting, then
breaking, then darting madly from side to side, started into a full run.
I pulled with all my might; Gusta stood up and helped. No avail. On we
rushed to sudden death. No one in sight anywhere. With one Herculean