Bucephalus became the favorite horse of Alexander, and was very
tractable and docile, though full of life and spirit. He would kneel
upon his fore legs, at the command of his master, in order that he might
mount more easily. A great many anecdotes are related of the feats of
Bucephalus, as a war-horse. He was never willing to have any one ride
him but Alexander. When the horse died, Alexander mourned for him a
great deal. He had him buried with great solemnity, and built a small
city upon the spot of his interment, which he named, in honor of his
favorite, Bucephalia.
An odd sort of an old mare, called by her master Nancy, used to go by my
father's house, when I was a child. She was the bearer of Peter
Packer--Uncle Peter, as he was sometimes called by the good people in
our neighborhood--and he was the bearer of the weekly newspaper, and
was, withal, quite as odd as his mare. As long as I can remember, Uncle
Peter went his weekly rounds, and for aught I know, he is going to this
day. No storm, or tempest, or snow-bank, could detain him, that is, not
longer than a day or two, in his mission. He was a very punctual man--in
other words, he always paced leisurely along, some time or another.
Speaking of pacing, reminds me that the mare aforesaid belonged to that
particular class and order called _pacers_, from their peculiar gait. I
should think, too, that the mare was not altogether unlike the
celebrated animal on which Don Quixote rode in pursuit of wind-mills,
and things of that sort.
Pages:
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63