s from New Hope, laughed to see an old white horse, with a bundle of hay a few inches beyond his nose, passing through the place.
Mr. Smith, after breakfast, started out to hunt up old Whitey. He often found him under the maple in front of the Pensioner's house. Paul was swinging on the gate. "Have you seen my horse?" Mr. Smith asked.
"Yes, sir, I saw him going down towards the bridge last evening," Paul replied, chuckling to himself.
Mr. Smith went down to the mill and inquired. The miller heard a horse go over the bridge. The farmer on the other side heard a horse go up the hill. Mr. Smith looked at the tracks. They were old Whitey's, who had a broken shoe on his left hind foot. He followed on. "I never knew him to go away before," he said to himself, as he walked hour after hour, seeing the tracks all the way to Fairview.
"Have you seen a white horse about here?" he asked of one of the villagers.
"Yes, sir; there was one here this morning trying to overtake a bundle of ha