IN my great-great-grandfather's barn-yard stood an old-fashioned well,
with a long sweep or pole, by which the bucket was pulled up. This well
was used entirely for the horses and cattle.
Grandfather had a horse named Pete, who would walk out of his stall
every morning, go to the well, take the pole, by which the bucket was
attached to the well-sweep, between his teeth, and thus pull up the
bucket until it rested on the shelf made for it. Then old Pete would
drink the water which he had taken so much pains to get.
But one of my uncles had a horse even more knowing than old Pete. This
horse was named Whitey. Every Sunday morning, when the church-bell rang,
Uncle George would lead Whitey out of his stall, harness him, drive him
to church, and tie him in a certain shed, where he would stand quietly
till church was done.
After a while, Whitey grew so used to this weekly performance, that,
when the bells rang, he would walk out of his stall, and wait to be
harnessed. One Sunday morning, Old Whitey, on hearing the bells, walked
out of his stall as usual, and patiently waited for Uncle George. But it
happened that uncle was sick that morning, and none of the family felt
like going to church.
I do not really know what Whitey's thoughts were; but I have no doubt
that they were something like this: "Well, well! I guess my master is
not going to church this morning; but that is no reason why I should not
go. I must go now, or I shall be late."
Whitey had waited so long, that he was rather late; but he jogged
steadily along to his post in the shed, and there took his stand, as
usual.
As soon as old Mr. Lane, who sat in one of the back-pews and always came
out of church before anybody else, appeared at the door, Whitey started
for home. At the door of the house he was greeted by several members of
the family, who had just discovered his absence, and who learned the
next day, from Mr. Lane, that old Whitey had merely been attending
strictly to his church-duties.