was generally exhausted. Grant received his fair share of this
discipline, but as he never resented it, he doubtless got no more
of it than he deserved and it probably did him good.

Among his schoolmates he had the reputation of talking less than
any of the other boys and of knowing more about horses than all of
them put together. An opportunity to prove this came when he was
about eleven, for a circus appeared in the village with a trick
pony, and during the performance the clown offered five dollars to
any boy who could ride him. Several of Ulysses' friends immediately
volunteered, but he sat quietly watching the fun while one after
another of the boys fell victim to the pony's powers. Finally,
when the little animal's triumph seemed complete, Grant stepped
into the ring and sprang upon his back. A tremendous tussle for
the mastery immediately ensued, but though he reared and shied and
kicked, the tricky little beast was utterly unable to throw its
fearless young rider, and amid the shouts of the audience the clown
at last stopped the contest and paid Ulysses the promised reward.

From that time forward his superiority as a horseman was firmly
established, and as he grew older and his father allowed him to
take longer and longer trips with the teams, he came to be the most
widely traveled boy in the village. Indeed, he was only about
fifteen when he covered nearly a hundred and fifty miles in the
course of one of his journeys, taking as good care of his horses
as he did of himself, and transacting the business entrusted to him
with entire satisfaction to all concerned. These long, and often
lonely, trips increased his independence and so encouraged his
habit of silence that many of the village people began to think
him a dunce.