I told him that I was sorry, but did not know how to take them out, and
should not dare to if I did, for his master might come out and see what
I was about. 'Thank you,' said he, 'a luncheon of corn with the bits in
is much better than none. The worst of it is, I have to munch so slowly,
that master may come before I finish it, and thrash me for eating his
corn, and you for the kindness.' I sat down on a stone out of the wind,
and waited in trouble, for fear that the miller and the owner of the
corn would come and find out what I had done. At last the horse winked
and stuck out his upper lip ever so far, and then said, 'The last kernel
is gone'; then he laughed a little, then shook one ear, then the other,
then shut his eyes as if to take a nap. I jumped up and said: 'How do
you feel, old fellow; any better?' He opened his eyes, and looking at me
kindly, answered 'very much,' and then blew his nose exceedingly loud,
but he did not wipe it. Perhaps he had no wiper. I then asked if his
master whipped him much. He opened his eyes, and looking at me kindly,
answered, 'Not much lately; he used to till my hide got hardened, but
now he has a white-oak goad-stick with an iron brad in its end, with
which he jabs my hind quarters and hurts me awfully.' I asked him why he
did not kick up, and knock his tormentor out of the wagon. 'I did try
once,' said he, 'but am old and was weak, and could only get my heels
high enough to break the whiffletree, and besides lost my balance and
fell down flat. Master then jumped down, and getting a cudgel struck me
over the head, and I thought my troubles were over. This happened just
before Mr. Ben Ham's house, and I should have been finished and ready
for the crows, if he had not stepped out and told master not to strike
again, if he did he would shake his liver out. That saved my life, but I
was sorry, though Mr. Ham meant good.' The goad with the iron brad was
in the wagon, and snatching it out I struck the end against a stone, and
the stabber flew into the mill-pond. 'There,' says I, 'old colt,' as I
threw the goad back into the wagon, 'he won't harpoon you again with