by carrying General Werritan twenty miles in fifty-eight minutes; the faithful horse who had then picked up his master on the battle field and borne him back to Lancaster, trotted gladly across the turnpike to the stable in answer to old Rastus' call. For notwithstanding his laurels he was still in his nature just a home-loving, comfort-loving horse, who knew that a good feed awaited him in the old box stall and a faithful rub-down at the hands of his old groom.
There let us leave him, munching oats. He has well earned his rest and he will enjoy it to the full.
The end