and the poor thing was terribly glad to find a man who could talk in horse-language.
"You know, Doctor," said the horse, "that vet over the hill knows nothing at all. He has been treating me six weeks now—for spavins. What I need is spectacles. I am going blind in one eye. There's no reason why horses shouldn't wear glasses, the same as people. But that stupid man over the hill never even looked at my eyes. He kept on giving me big pills. I tried to tell him; but he couldn't understand a word of horse-language. What I need is spectacles."
"Of course—of course," said the Doctor. "I'll get you some at once."
"I would like a pair like yours," said the horse—"only green. They'll keep the sun out of my eyes while I'm plowing the Fifty-Acre Field."
"Certainly," said the Doctor. "Green ones you shall have."
"You know, the trouble is, Sir," said the plow-horse as the Doctor opened the front door to let him out—"the trouble is that anybody
