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the animal had a mean
disposition, but because I stood so far away from the
kickers that momentum was given a chance to build up. When
our foreman, Alfred Sibley, got badly bitten by
a young colt my mother explained that Alfred must have had an apple in
his pocket.
To her way of thinking there was something therapeutic
about a horse. At a young age I drove to Waltham to show our
old "Bell" — nearly thirty-five years old — in an anniversary parade. As
we were leaving the house I felt sick but my mother was sure that a
drive to Waltham in the fresh air, and behind a horse, would make me
much better. My father thought a little medicine more to the point,
especially as I had a sore throat, and he gave me a supply of 'red
gum' and 'slippery elm' lozenges. By
the time my mother and I got to Waltham these had all been consumed and
I was feeling quite sick. Then, halfway through
the parade, all the 'red gums' and 'slippery elms' came shooting
up along with my breakfast, and landed in the gutter of Moody Street. I
remember very little more about the day except that I
felt sufficiently relieved to carry on and win a medal for having
the oldest horse there.
One Sunday morning when I was about ten, we planned a long ride to
take Elizabeth Clark, who had been spending the night
at our house, to her home in Framingham. My mother said that
we would have to start promptly; unless I was ready, she said,
they would have to go without me. I knew perfectly well my mother
would wait — she always did — so I took my time, and when I arrived at
the stable I found that the others had all left.
I hurriedly got a saddle on Tito and galloped off towards Framingham to
catch up with them, but somewhere along the |
