"I got knocked out a few minutes later, and from that day to this I've
often wondered what had happened to the mare that had served us so
gallantly. I know now. There she stands before you. I'd know her out
of a thousand by the white blaze; and if there was a doubt there's her
blind eye and the scar on her neck.

"That's all, gentlemen; but I'm going to ask the man who buys her to
remember her story and to see that her last days are not too hard."

She fell at a good price to a splendid type of West Country farmer,
and the auctioneer whispered to me, "I'm glad old Carey's got her.
There's not a man in the county keeps his horses better."

"Old Carey" came up to me as we were moving off. "I had a son in
France," he said, "in the gunners, too, but he hadn't the luck of the
old mare"--he hesitated a moment and his old eyes looked steadily into
mine--"for he'll never come back. The mare'll be all right, Sir," he
went on as he walked off, "easy work and full rations. I reckon she's
earned them."

* * * * *

"The bride was given away by her grandfather who was dressed
in Liberty satin in empire style, with hanging sleeves of
chiffon."--_Provincial Paper_.

He must have looked a sweet old dear.

* * * * *