ground, his forehead is broad, his eyes clear, with just a gleam of
wickedness now and again; his ears neat, furry, and very mobile; his
colour a greyish roan, tending more to white in his maturity, which now
is. Lest the detail might prejudice him in his love affairs, of which he
is as yet entirely innocent, I am determined not to mention his age, even
in the strictest confidence, and though the anniversary of his birth is
at hand.

Though he spends most of his time in the forest, he takes astounding
interest in maritime affairs, watching curiously passing sailing boats
and steamers. More than once he has been first to proclaim, "A sail!"
for when he flourishes his head and tosses his mane and gives a
semi-gambol with his hind quarters, we know that he sees something
strange, and look in the direction in which he gazes.

But I am ahead of my story. When he was in his shy, frisky foalage--as
nervous and twitchy as might be--one lucky day I offered him from a
distance of thirty yards one of the luscious bananas I was enjoying as I
strolled down the path to the beach. The aroma was novel, and apparently
very pleasant, for to my astonishment he walked towards me gingerly, but
with a very decided interest in the banana. As he approached on the pins
and needles of alertness, I extolled the qualities of the banana. He
stopped, and started again, anxious to taste the hitherto unknown
delicacy, but not at all trustful. Soon he came boldly up, and taking the
banana from my hand, ate it with the joy of discovery in his features,
and calmly demanded another. Thus began the breaking of Christmas, and if
I had had sense enough to have followed up his education on similar
lines, a deal of hard work, risk to life and limb, and the loss of some
little personal property might have been saved. Ever after, Christmas
could not resist the decoy of a banana.