ly, finally giving up the task as hopeless and climbing the fence into a larger pasture.
Over in one corner of the field she spied something that quickened her steps with pleasure. A baby colt, long-legged, sleek of head and altogether "adorable" as Betty would have said, ambled more or less ungracefully about enjoying the shade of a clump of trees and sampling the grass at intervals.
"Oh, I do hope you're tame!" whispered Betty softly.
She was fond of animals, and Bramble Farm, with the exception of a few lambs, had had no young life in its pastures and stables. The little calves were always sold as early as possible that there might be more milk for butter, and Betty was fairly aching to pet something.
She walked cautiously up to the colt, who sniffed at her suspiciously, but stood his ground. He pricked his ears forward and looked at her inquiringly.
"You dear!" said the girl quietly. "You little beauty! You wouldn't mind if I patted you, would you?"
She put out one hand and touched the rough side of the little animal. He stood perfectly still, and she stroked him for a minute or two, speaking gently to him. Presently he nuzzled her playfully.
