The Old Brown Horse

"The Old Brown Horse" by David Cory is a charming children's story that follows the adventures of a gentle and wise old horse. Through his experiences, the tale conveys themes of friendship, loyalty, and the wisdom that comes with age. As the old brown horse interacts with the children and animals around him, he shares valuable life lessons and the importance of kindness and understanding. With delightful illustrations and a heartwarming narrative, this book captures the essence of childhood wonder and the bonds that form between humans and animals.

• Children

								
    One morning, oh, so early,
      When the dew shone on the grass
    And the Mill Pond lay so quiet
      It seemed a looking glass,

Little Jack Rabbit hopped up the Winding Trail in the Shady Forest to
the Forest Pool, in which Busy Beaver had a nice bungalow.

Of course this little hairy swimmer was at home. Yes, indeed. There
he sat on the bank, looking here and looking there, just as if he
hadn’t a single care.

“Hello!” shouted the little bunny boy rabbit.

“Well, I’m glad to see you,” answered Busy Beaver. “It’s a long time
since you’ve made a call.”

“So it is,” replied the little rabbit, “but you’re not the only busy
person in the world.”

“I’m not busy just now. You see, I work on my new building at night,”
and Busy Beaver flapped the water with his long flat tail.

“Where are the other members of the family?” asked the polite little
rabbit. You see, not having made a call for so long a time he had
forgotten all their names.

“Oh, they’re cutting down some small trees,” replied Busy Beaver.
“As we live on land and in the water, we must have two houses. Then,
too, as the children grow up we need more, which keeps us busy all
the time.”

“Well, remember me to everybody,” said the little bunny boy rabbit,
and away he hopped, lipperty lip, clipperty clip until all of a
sudden, just like that, whom should he see but the Farmer’s Boy with
a gun over his shoulder.

“Dear, dear!” thought the little rabbit. “Is he going to shoot Busy
Beaver, I wonder. His nice fur coat would make a warm pair of gloves
for the cold weather. I guess I’ll warn Busy Beaver.”

So back hopped this kind-hearted little bunny, clipperty clip,
lipperty lip, looking over his shoulder now and then and sometimes
oftener to see if the Farmer’s Boy was following him.

“What are you back for?” asked Busy Beaver, as all out of breath
Little Jack Rabbit stopped again at the Shady Forest Pool.

“S-s-sh!” whispered the little bunny. “The Farmer’s Boy is out with
his gun. I just saw him up the Shady Forest Trail. That’s why I
hopped back.”

“Very kind of you,” answered the little beaver. “Guess I’ll take to
the water. I’ve got a nice hiding place not far from here. Good-by,”
and away he swam in his nice chestnut brown fur coat, leaving the
boy bunny rabbit all alone. Dear me! I hope the Farmer’s Boy doesn’t
shoot him before I get him safely away, too.

“What was that?” thought the Farmer’s Boy as Little Jack Rabbit
hopped into a hollow stump near by. “What was that?” repeated the
curious boy, tiptoeing over to the Shady Forest Pool. I guess he had
heard the slap of the little beaver’s long flat tail as he dived down
under the water to reach his front door.

Pretty soon the Farmer’s Boy turned away and walked up to the hollow
stump. He was just going to thrust in his arm when he heard a great
splashing in the Shady Forest Pool. My goodness, how Busy Beaver was
flapping the water with his big flat tail, sending the spray flying
in all directions.

At once the Farmer’s Boy forgot all about the hollow stump. Lifting
his gun to his shoulder, he took careful aim, but before he could
pull the trigger a big drop of water spattered in his eye and he
dropped the gun to take out his pocket handkerchief. Wait a minute,
please, I’ve made a mistake. I meant to say he dropped his gun to
brush the water from his eye with his coat sleeve.

“Now’s your chance!” shouted Busy Beaver.

Of course the Farmer’s Boy didn’t understand this warning, but the
little rabbit did. Peeking out of the hollow stump for just a minute,
he went hipperty hop, clipperty clip, lipperty lip down the Shady
Forest Trail, past the wooded hillside where beneath a pile of rocks
Danny Fox had his den.

“Now’s my chance,” thought Danny Fox, and out he jumped from his
rocky bungalow.

“Dear, oh, dear me! Now what shall I do? I’m a goner, I know it!”
cried the poor little bunny boy rabbit. “Yes, I’m a goner as sure as
sunshine follows rain.”

“Stop whispering to yourself!” snarled the wicked fox. “I’ve a good
mind to eat you right now before the Policeman Dog happens by with
his big hickory stick.”

“Please do—I mean, please don’t! Oh, dear, oh, dear, I don’t know
what I mean!” cried the poor frightened little bunny, his pink nose
twinkling like a star on a frosty night.

“Gr-r-r!” snarled the old fox, creeping closer and closer till his
hot breath burned the shivering little rabbit’s whiskers. “I’m going
to eat you now. Make no mistake about it. You have given me the slip
once too often.”

“No, you’re not!” shouted a friendly voice and from behind a clump
of trees out ran the Old Brown Horse. Turning quickly around, he let
fly with his two hind feet, sending Danny Fox through the air like a
hairy four-footed two-eared football.

“Never come back!” cried the Old Brown Horse, leaning over to see if
the little rabbit was all right. Of course he was, but all a-tremble.

“Thank you,” he cried. “Won’t you come home with me? You can sleep in
our Little Red Barn.”

“All right,” answered the Big Brown Horse, trotting after the little
bunny rabbit boy.

“Perhaps if you hop on my back you’ll be home in the Old Bramble
Patch in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” said the Old Brown Horse,
noticing how trembly the little rabbit was.

So up hopped the little bunny boy and away they went, trottery trot,
bumperty, bump! By and by, after a while, and a laugh and a smile,
they came to a big wide river.

“I’m not a very good swimmer,” apologized the kind four-footed
animal, “but maybe I can manage to get across.”

“Don’t take too many chances,” advised the little bunny boy rabbit.

But the Old Brown Horse kept right on wading into the water and
pretty soon it was up to his shoulder. All of a sudden his feet
couldn’t touch bottom. Only a little bit of the top of his back was
above water and Little Jack Rabbit had to pull up his feet and hug
tight to the Old Brown Horse—hold tight to his mane, you know, so he
wouldn’t slip off.

They were now out in the middle of the river where the water ran fast
and furious. Dear me! It was now hard work to swim and the Old Brown
Horse began to puff and pant as down the river they drifted with the
fast flowing current.

“I guess I’m all in,” panted the poor tired steed. “I never was a
fine swimmer. The race track was the place where I could show my
heels to the best of them!”

“What are we going to do?” asked the anxious little bunny boy, as
they drifted farther and farther away. The trees on the shore nodded
and seemed to beckon them to swim to land. The white fleecy clouds up
in the sky took the shape of fingers pointing to the shore. The poor
Old Brown Horse was all tired out and his long thin legs made poor
paddle wheels. If only his feet had been flat like Ducky Waddles it
would have been an easy matter to have made the shore and landed his
little bunny rider safely on the grass.


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