sound of the piano, he would deliberately wheel about, cross the street,
place himself as near the window as possible, and there, with ears and
eyes dilating, would he quietly stand and listen till his owner came for
him. This was his daily practice. Sometimes the young lady would stop
playing when the doctor drove up. The horse would then remain quietly in
his place; but the first stroke of a key would arrest his attention, and
half a dozen notes would invariably call him across the street. I
witnessed the effect several times."

There was a show-bill printed during the reign of Queen Anne, a copy of
which is still to be seen in one of the public libraries in England, to
the following effect: "To be seen, at the Ship, upon Great Tower Hill,
the finest taught horse in the world. He fetches and carries like a
spaniel dog. If you hide a glove, a handkerchief, a door key, a pewter
spoon, or so small a thing as a silver twopence, he will seek about the
room till he has found it, and then he will bring it to his master.
He will also tell the number of spots on a card, and leap through a
hoop; with a variety of other curious performances."

[Illustration: ALEXANDER TAMING BUCEPHALUS.]

The story of Alexander the Great, and his favorite horse Bucephalus,
doubtless most of my readers have heard before. Bucephalus was a
war-horse of a very high spirit, which had been sent to Philip,
Alexander's father, when the latter was a boy. This horse was taken out
into one of the parks connected with the palace, and the king and many
of his courtiers went to see him. The horse pranced about so furiously,
that every body was afraid of him. He seemed perfectly unmanageable. No
one was willing to risk his life by mounting such an unruly animal.
Philip, instead of being thankful for the present, was inclined to be in