that ugly, stiff thing adjusted.

"Now the headstall, Bud. Did you coat the bit with the melted sugar as I
told you?"

"Yes'm, missie. It's fair cracklin' wid sugar, an' onct he gits a lick
ob dat bit he ain' never gwine let go, yo' hyar me."

"Now, my bonny one, we'll see," said Peggy, as she unstrapped the bit,
and the headstall without it was no more than the halter to which
Shashai had been accustomed. Then very gently she held the bit toward
him. He tried to take it as he would have taken the sugar and his look
of surprise when his lips closed over the hard metal thing was amusing.
Nevertheless, it tasted good and he mouthed and licked it, gradually
getting it well within his mouth. At an opportune moment Peggy slipped
the right buckle into place, quickly following it by the left one.
Shashai started.

"Steady, Shashai. Steady, boy," she said gently and the day was won. No
shocks, no lashings, no harsh words to make the sight of that headstall
throw him into a panic whenever it was produced. Dozens of horses had
been so educated by Peggy Stewart. Shashai sucked at his queer
mouthpiece as a child would suck a stick of candy, and while he was
enjoying its sweetness Peggy brought forth lump number two. Four was his
daily allowance, and as he enjoyed number two she let down the stirrups
which had seemed likely to startle him.

"Stand outside, Bud, he may be a little frightened when the saddle
creaks." The boy left the paddock.