Darrel of the Blessed Isles | Page 5

corn. Have ye ever heard the three
prayers o' the horse?"
"No," said Allen.

"Well, three times a day, sor, he prays, so they say, in the desert. In the
morning he thinks a prayer like this, 'O Allah! make me beloved o' me
master.' At noon, 'Do well by me master that he may do well by me.' At
even, 'O Allah! grant, at last, I may bear me master into Paradise.'
"An' the Arab, sor, he looks for a hard ride an' many jumps in the last
journey, an' is kind to him all the days of his life, sor, so he may be able
to make it."
For a moment he led her up and down at a quick trot, her dainty feet
touching the earth lightly as a fawn's.
"Thou'rt made for the hot leagues o' the great sand sea," said he, patting
her head. "Ah! thy neck shall be as the bowsprit; thy dust as the flying
spray."
"In one thing you are like Isaiah," said Allen, as he whittled. "The Lord
God hath given thee the tongue of the learned."
"An' if he grant me the power to speak a word in season to him that is
weary, I shall be content," said the tinker.
Dinner over, they came out of doors. The stranger stood filling his pipe.
Something in his talk and manner had gone deep into the soul of the
boy, who now whispered a moment with his father.
"Would you sell the filly?" said Allen. "My boy would like to own
her."
"What, ho, the boy! the beautiful boy! An' would ye love her, boy?" the
tinker asked.
"Yes, sir," the boy answered quickly,
"An' put a ribbon in her forelock, an' a coat o' silk on her back, an',
mind ye, a man o' kindness in the saddle?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then take thy horse, an' Allah grant thou be successful on her as many
times as there be hairs in her skin."
"And the price?" said Allen.
"Name it, an' I'll call thee just."
The business over, the tinker called to Trove, who had led the filly to
her stall,--
"You, there, strike the tents. Bring me the mare. This very day she may
bear me to forgiveness."
Trove brought the mare.
"Remember," said the old man, turning as he rode away, "in the day o'

the last judgment God 'll mind the look o' thy horse."
He rode on a few steps and halted, turning in the saddle.
"Thou, too, Phyllis," he called. "God 'll mind the look o' thy master; see
that ye bring him safe."
The little filly began to rear and call, the mother to answer. For days
she called and trembled, with wet eyes, listening for the voice that still
answered, though out of hearing, far over the hills. And Trove, too, was
lonely, and there was a kind of longing in his heart for the music in that
voice of the stranger.

IV
The Uphill Road
For Trove it was a day of sowing. The strange old tinker had filled his
heart with a new joy and a new desire. Next morning he got a ride to
Hillsborough--fourteen miles--and came back, reading, as he walked, a
small, green book, its thin pages covered thick with execrably fine
printing, its title "The Works of Shakespeare." He read the book
industriously and with keen pleasure. Allen complained, shortly, that
Shakespeare and the filly had interfered with the potatoes and the corn.
The filly ceased to take food and sickened for a time after the dam left
her. Trove lay in the stall nights and gave her milk sweetened to her
liking. She grew strong and playful, and forgot her sorrow, and began
to follow him like a dog on his errands up and down the farm. Trove
went to school in the autumn--"Select school," it was called. A
two-mile journey it was, by trail, but a full three by the wagon road. He
learned only a poor lesson the first day, for, on coming in sight of the
schoolhouse, he heard a rush of feet behind him and saw his filly
charging down the trail. He had to go back with her and lose the day, a
thought dreadful to him, for now hope was high, and school days few
and precious. At first he was angry. Then he sat among the ferns,
covering his face and sobbing with sore resentment. The little filly
stood over him and rubbed her silky muzzle on his neck, and kicked up
her heels in play as he pushed her back. Next morning he put her
behind a fence, but she went over it with the ease of a wild deer and
came bounding after him. When, at last, she was