She loved to have me wash her legs and braid her mane and rub her coat until it glowed, and she carried herself proudly when I was on her back.

I had named her Sally because that was the only name which seemed to express my fondness.
"Mr.Purvis" was not an experienced rider.

My filly led him at a swift gallop over the hills and I heard many a muttered complaint behind me, but she liked a free head when we took the road together and I let her have her way.
Coming back we fell in with another rider who had been resting at Seaver's little tavern through the heat of the day.

He was a traveler on his way to Canton and had missed the right trail and wandered far afield.

He had a big military saddle with bags and shiny brass trimmings and a pistol in a holster, all of which appealed to my eye and interest.
The filly was a little tired and the stranger and I were riding abreast at a walk while Purvis trailed behind us.