To be
sure he has a will of his own, and has more than once--just for
fun--thrown his young master over his head; but he always stands stock
still till the boy is on his back again, and as Herbert says: 'It is
only a little way to fall from his back to the ground.'"
"How fast will he go?" Roy asked.
"Fast enough for a boy to ride. From five to seven miles an hour,
perhaps, and keep it up all day, if need be, for the Canadian horses
have great strength and endurance. The last time I saw Herbert he told
me a pretty story about Elf King."
"Is that his name?"
"Yes; isn't it a pretty name? Elf for fairy, you know, and King for the
head of the fairies. But perhaps I am keeping you, boys. Is there any
thing you ought to be doing at home?"
"No, no!" both answered together, and Sammy answered that he did up all
his chores before he came away.
"Very well; then I will tell you about Elf King's visit to the
blacksmith."
"Instead of next Wednesday?"
"Oh, dear, no! I have a long story for next Wednesday. This is very
short, and doesn't count; is just a little private entertainment thrown
in on our own account."
Roy, who had all this time sat uncomfortably on the edge of his chair,
settled back, and Sammy made use of his favorite expression:--
"All right!"
"When Elf King came into Herbert's possession he had never been shod;
but very soon he was taken to the village blacksmith and four funny
little shoes fitted to his feet, which, when he was accustomed to, he
liked very much.
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