“I am so glad you don’t,” said Miss Laura.  “You are like the Russians.  Many of them control their horses by their voices, and call them such pretty names.  But you have to use a whip for some horses, don’t you, Cousin Harry?”

“Yes, Laura.  There are many vicious horses that can’t be controlled otherwise, and then with many horses one requires a whip in case of necessity for urging them forward.

“I suppose Fleetfoot never balks,” said Miss Laura.

“No,” replied Mr. Harry; “Dutchman sometimes does, and we have two cures for him, both equally good.  We take up a forefoot and strike his shoe two or three times with a stone.  The operation always interests him greatly, and he usually starts.  If he doesn’t go for that, we pass a line round his forelegs, at the knee joint, then go in front of him and draw on the line.  Father won’t let the men use a whip, unless they are driven to it.”

“Fleetfoot has had a happy life, hasn’t he?” said Miss Laura, looking admiringly at him.  “How did he get to like you so much, Harry?”

“I broke him in after a fashion of my own.  Father gave him to me, and the first time I saw him on his feet, I went up carefully and put my hand on him.  His mother was rather shy of me, for we hadn’t had her long, and it made him shy too, so I soon left him.  The next time I stroked him; the next time I put my arm around him.  Soon he acted like a big dog.  I could lead him about by a strap, and I made a little halter and a bridle for him.  I didn’t see why I shouldn’t train him a little while he was young and manageable.  I think it is cruel to let colts run till one has to employ severity in mastering them.  Of course, I did not let him do much work.  Colts are like boys—­a boy shouldn’t do a man’s work, but he had exercise every day, and I trained him to draw a light cart behind him.  I used to do all kinds of things to accustom him to unusual sounds.  Father talked a good deal to me about Rarey, the great horse-tamer, and it put ideas into my head.  He said he once saw Rarey come on a stage in Boston with a timid horse that he was going to accustom to a loud noise.  First a bugle was blown, then some louder instrument, and so on, till there was a whole brass band going.  Rarey reassured the animal, and it was not afraid.”

“You like horses better than any other animals, don’t you, Harry?” asked Miss Laura.

“I believe I do, though I am very fond of that dog of yours.  I think I know more about horses than dogs.  Have you noticed Scamp very much?”

“Oh, yes; I often watched her.  She is such an amusing little creature.”