not like Marengo, or Pegasus, or Abdallah. They both laughed, and James
said, "If it was not for bringing back the past, I should have named him
Rob Roy, for I never saw two horses more alike."

"That's no wonder," said John; "didn't you know that Farmer Grey's old
Duchess was the mother of them both?"

I had never heard that before; and so poor Rob Roy who was killed
at that hunt was my brother! I did not wonder that my mother was so
troubled. It seems that horses have no relations; at least they never
know each other after they are sold.

John seemed very proud of me; he used to make my mane and tail almost as
smooth as a lady's hair, and he would talk to me a great deal; of course
I did not understand all he said, but I learned more and more to know
what he meant, and what he wanted me to do. I grew very fond of him, he
was so gentle and kind; he seemed to know just how a horse feels, and
when he cleaned me he knew the tender places and the ticklish places;
when he brushed my head he went as carefully over my eyes as if they
were his own, and never stirred up any ill-temper.

James Howard, the stable boy, was just as gentle and pleasant in his
way, so I thought myself well off. There was another man who helped in
the yard, but he had very little to do with Ginger and me.

A few days after this I had to go out with Ginger in the carriage. I
wondered how we should get on together; but except laying her ears
back when I was led up to her, she behaved very well. She did her work
honestly, and did her full share, and I never wish to have a better
partner in double harness. When we came to a hill, instead of slackening