The house for these dogs cost $200, so I was obliged to add another $400 to the interest-bearing debt.  “If Jane keeps on in this fashion,” thought I, “I shall have to refund at a lower rate,”—­and she did keep on.  No sooner were the dogs safely kennelled than she began to think how fine it would look to be followed by this wonderful pair along the country roads and through the streets of Exeter.  To be followed, she must have a horse and a saddle and a bridle and a habit; and later on I found that these things did not grow on the bushes in our neighborhood.  I drew a line at these things, however, and decided that they should not swell the farm account.  Thus I keep from the reader’s eye some of the foolishness of a doting parent who has always been as warm wax in the hands of his, nearly always, reasonable children.

In my stable were two Kentucky-bred saddlers of much more than average quality, for they had strains of warm blood in their veins.  There is no question nowadays as to the value of warm blood in either riding or driving horses.  It gives ability, endurance, courage, and docility beyond expectation.  One-sixteenth thorough blood will, in many animals, dominate the fifteen-sixteenths of cold blood, and prove its virtue by unusual endurance, stamina, and wearing capacity.

The blue-grass region of Kentucky has furnished some of the finest horses in the world, and I have owned several which gave grand service until they were eighteen or twenty years old.  An honest horseman at Paris, Kentucky, has sold me a dozen or more, and I was willing to trust his judgment for a saddler for Jane.  My request to him was for a light-built horse; weight, one thousand pounds; game and spirited, but safe for a woman, and one broken to jump.  Everything else, including price, was left to him.

In good time Jane’s horse came, and we were well pleased with it, as indeed we ought to have been.  My Paris man wrote:  “I send a bay mare that ought to fill the bill.  She is as quiet as a kitten, can run like a deer, and jump like a kangaroo.  My sister has ridden her for four months, and she is not speaking to me now.  If you don’t like her, send her back.”

But I did like her, and I sent, instead, a considerable check.  The mare was a bright bay with a white star on her forehead and white stockings on her hind feet, stood fifteen hands three inches, weighed 980 pounds, and looked almost too light built; but when we noted the deep chest, strong loins, thin legs, and marvellous thighs, we were free to admit that force and endurance were promised.  Jane was delighted.

“Dad, if I live to be a hundred years old, I will never forget this day.  She’s the sweetest horse that ever lived.  I must find a nice name for her, and to-morrow we will take our first ride, you and Tom and Aloha and I—­yes, that’s her name.”

We did ride the next day, and many days thereafter; and Aloha proved all and more than the Kentuckian had promised.