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“‘You shall not be sold, Rosa! you shall go and board at Mr. Town’s great stable, where you will have pleasant society among the eighty horses who usually pass the winter there. Your shoes shall be taken off, and you shall rest till March at least. The best care will be taken of you, dear, and I will come and see you; and in the spring you shall return to us, even if Miss Merry is not here to welcome you.’

“‘Thanks, many, many thanks! But I wish I could do something to earn my board. I hate to be idle, though rest is delicious. Is there nothing I can do to repay you, Miss Belinda? Please answer quickly, for I know the hour is almost over,’ cried Rosa, stamping with anxiety; for, like all her sex, she wanted the last word.

“‘Yes, you can,’ I cried, as a sudden idea popped into my head. ‘I’ll write down what you have told me, and send the little story to a certain paper I know of, and the money I get for it will pay your board. So rest in peace, my dear; you will have earned your living, and may feel that your debt is paid.’

“Before she could reply the clock struck one, and a long sigh of satisfaction was all the response in her power. But we understood each other now, and, cutting a lock from her mane for Miss Merry, I gave Rosa a farewell caress and went away, wondering if I had made it all up, or if she had really broken a year’s silence and freed her mind.

“However that may be, here is the tale, and the sequel to it is, that the bay mare has really gone to board at a first-class stable,” concluded Miss Belinda. “I call occasionally and leave my card in the shape of an apple, finding Madam Rosa living like an independent lady, with her large box and private yard on the sunny side of the barn, a kind ostler to wait upon her, and much genteel society from the city when she is inclined for company.

“What more could any reasonable horse desire?”