“My grandmother was fond of telling some of the means adopted to bring about the cure;—­how one day after Peter had shied at sight of a wheelbarrow, the parson trundled the obnoxious object about the yard for half an hour in view of the stable window, then emptied a measure of oats in it, and opened the stable door; how the horse trotted round and round, drawing each time a little nearer, then came close, snorted and wheeled,—­his master standing by encouraging him by hand and voice,—­until, unable longer to resist the tempting bait, he put his pink nose to the pile and ate first timidly, then with confidence.  After that, the old lady said, Peter felt a particular regard for wheelbarrows in general, hoping in each one he happened to pass to find another toothsome meal.

“He suffered at first agonies of terror at sight of the long line of waving, flapping garments he had to pass every Monday in his passage from the big gate to the stable; but, through the minister’s devices, grew so familiar with their appearance, that he took an early opportunity of making their closer acquaintance, and mouthed the parson’s ruffled shirt, and took a bite of the Widow Goslee’s dimity short-gown.

“And so the kindly work went on.  Peter gained trust and confidence every day, learning little by little that his master was his friend, that under his guidance no harm came to him, no impossible task was given to him; until at length confidence cast out fear, and the white horse became as docile and obedient as he had always been willing and strong.

“These qualities, on one occasion, stood him in good stead; for the parsonage barn and stable one night burned to the ground.  Peter’s stall was bright with the red light of the fire, and the flames crackled overhead in the barn-loft when the parson led out his favorite, trembling in every limb, his eyes wild with terror, but perfectly obedient to his master’s hand.  It was as if he had said:  ’I must go, even through this dreadful fire, if master leads the way.’

“There was a Fourth of July celebration in the next parish, and Parson Lorrimer was invited to deliver the oration.  He rode over on horseback, took the saddle from Peter’s back, and turned him loose in a pasture where other of the guests’ horses were grazing.  A platform was erected on the green, with seats for the band, the invited guests, and the speaker of the day; while the people gathered from both parishes were standing about in groups waiting for the exercises to commence.  Flags were flying, bells ringing, and a field-piece, that had seen service in the War of the Revolution, at intervals belched out a salute in honor of the day.  The band was playing a lively tune, when suddenly there was a stir and a dividing to the right and left of the crowd gathered about the stand, and through the lane thus formed came the minister’s white horse.