I judged from the excited manner in which he grabbed my deposit
money that morning that he had a note falling due next day.

Then Henlopen shut his eyes, counted six, turned around twice,
multiplied the day of the week by 19, subtracted 17, and the answer
was a cream-colored horse with four pink feet and a frightened
face, which looked at me sadly, sighed deeply and then backed up
into the shafts of a buggy with red wheels and white sulphur
springs.

[Illustration: The answer was a cream-colored horse which looked
at me sadly.]

The livery man said that the name of the horse was Parsifal,
because it seemed to go better in German.

I drove Parsifal up to our modest home, and all the way there we
ran neck and neck with a coal cart.

Parsifal used to be a fast horse, but quite some time ago he
stopped eating his wild oats and now leads a slower life.

When I reached the gate I whistled for Peaches, because I was
afraid to get out and leave Parsifal alone. He might go to sleep
and fall down.

My wife came out, looked at the rig, and then went back in the
house and bade everybody an affecting farewell.

There were tears in her eyes when she came out and climbed into the