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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Isn't there plenty of feed for Fleetfoot?" "Certainly," answered his father, compelled now to speak; "plenty of feed, but Fleetfoot was getting old and sometimes stumbled. Perhaps we'll get 'Lena a better and younger horse."
Miss Laura let Fleetfoot go as fast as he liked on the way home, and it only seemed a few minutes before we drove into the yard. Adele came out to meet us. "Where's uncle?" asked Miss Laura. "Gone to de big meadow," said Adele. "And auntie?" "She had de colds and chills, and entered into de bed to keep warm. She lose herself in sleep now. You not go near her."
She had not been properly broken in. After Mr. Wood finished his work he went and stood in the doorway. There were six horses altogether: Dutchman, Cleve, Pacer, Scamp, a bay mare called Ruby, and a young horse belonging to Mr. Harry, whose name was Fleetfoot. "What do you think of them all?" said Mr. Wood, looking down at me. "A pretty fine-looking lot of horses, aren't they?
"Where is Fleetfoot?" he asked as he stood in his stirrups and looked about him anxiously. "Fleetfoot is at the castle," replied Humphrey, calmly. "By thy command?" asked Hugo, quickly. "Ay," replied Humphrey. "Why, what young lord would journey about with a great dog like that in his train? If thou art to play Josceline, thou must play in earnest.
"Don't, Hobert, don't take on about it," Jenny said, putting back the heart that was in her mouth; "we will have her back again, you know!" and she gave Fleetfoot a little box on the ear that was half approval and half reproach, and so led Hobert back into the house. And that day was the saddest they had yet seen.
"Quite right," replied Old Mother Nature. "I am glad to find that you remember so well. Fleetfoot does the same thing with this white patch around his tail. The hairs are quite long and he can make them spread out so that that white patch becomes much larger, and when he is running it can be seen flashing in the sun long after he is so far away that nothing else of him can be seen.
Friends, and such good friends, for next to Jim and Billy, I have loved Fleetfoot. Mr. Harry pulled some lumps of sugar out of his pocket, and giving them to Miss Laura, told her to put them on the palm of her hand and hold it out flat toward Fleetfoot. The colt ate the sugar, and all the time eyed her with his quiet, observing glance, that made her exclaim: "What wise-looking colt!"
But he was too sweet-tempered to disobey. In all the years that I have known Fleetfoot, I have never once seen him refuse to do as his master told him. "You have forgotten your whip, haven't you Harry?" I heard Miss Laura say, as we jogged slowly along, and I ran by the buggy panting and with my tongue hanging out. "I never use one," said Mr.
"Yes, I should like to go," said Miss Laura, "I will go to the house and get my other hat." "Come on, Fleetfoot," said Mr. Harry. And he led the way from the pasture, the colt following behind with me. I waited about the veranda, and in a short time Mr. Harry drove up to the front door. The buggy was black and shining, and Fleetfoot had on a silver-mounted harness that made him look very fine.
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.
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