I dreamt
that I had died of the injuries I had received from my fall, and
that no sooner had my soul departed from my body than it entered
that of a quadruped, even my own horse in the stable--in a word, I
was, to all intents and purposes, my own steed; and as I stood in
the stable chewing hay (and I remember that the hay was exceedingly
tough), the door opened, and the surgeon who had attended me came
in. "My good animal," said he, "as your late master has scarcely
left enough to pay for the expenses of his funeral, and nothing to
remunerate me for my trouble, I shall make bold to take possession
of you. If your paces are good, I shall keep you for my own
riding; if not, I shall take you to Horncastle, your original
destination." He then bridled and saddled me, and, leading me out,
mounted, and then trotted me up and down before the house, at the
door of which the old man, who now appeared to be dressed in
regular jockey fashion, was standing. "I like his paces well,"
said the surgeon; "I think I shall take him for my own use." "And
what am I to have for all the trouble his master caused me?" said
my late entertainer, on whose countenance I now observed, for the
first time, a diabolical squint. "The consciousness of having done
your duty to a fellow-creature in succouring him in a time of
distress, must be your reward," said the surgeon.
Pages:
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302