The Black Stallion by Walter Farley Page B

help while teaching the colt his first lessons.
    It wasn't much that Uncle Wilmer had to do, but it was important. His job was to lead the mare about the paddock while Tom followed with the colt. The first few days, Uncle Wilmer had consented only grudgingly to help Tom, claiming he had "more important things to do than lead an old mare around in circles." But when Tom guided the colt first to the left of the Queen, then to the right of her, Uncle Wilmer stopped complaining and watched the boy with puzzled but interested eyes.
    They spent several hours each day in the paddock while Tom taught the colt to respond obediently to the pressure of the halter against his head. He would bring him to a stop and let Uncle Wilmer lead the mare away from him. Then, talking to the colt, Tom would keep him where he was until he was ready to take him to his mother. At first the colt would want to run to her, but Tom carefully held him down to a walk.
    It was tedious and trying work teaching the colt to obey Tom's every command. And during the long hours, Uncle Wilmer talked more and more of the racing records of such horses as Billy Direct, Spencer Scott, Titan Hanover and others, for he had memorized much of what he had read in
The American Trotter
. And he discussed bloodlines with Tom while they walked endlessly about the paddock with the mare and colt. He liked the Queen's breeding. She had Guy Axworthy's blood in her. He didn't think you could ask for more than that. "And it was a good idea breeding the mare to the Black, too," he told Tom. "The outcross to his Arabian blood might really do something for this colt."
    That had been Jimmy Creech's idea, Tom could have told him. But he didn't, for he had learned that the less he mentioned Jimmy's name to his uncle, the easier it was to get along with him.
    Letters came frequently from Jimmy and George Snedecker. After leaving the Bedford Fair, they had gone on to Butler, Ebensburg, back to Carlisle, and then on to the Lebanon, Youngstown and Mercer fairs. Jimmy finished in the money at most of the fairs, but he never brought Symbol home to win. There were several pictures of him in the latest issue of
Hoof Beats
, and Uncle Wilmer studied them critically.
    "He's gettin' on," Uncle Wilmer said in a surprised tone. "Must be my age, all right."
    "So are a good many of the others," Tom said. "Some of the best drivers are old men."
    "Not
old men,'"
Uncle Wilmer answered a little fiercely. "Just gettin' on. We can keep up with any of the young'uns, all right."
    From that day, it seemed to Tom that Uncle Wilmer's attitude toward Jimmy Creech changed considerably. Once he even went so far as to claim that Jimmy Creech was "responsible for the good looks of the colt. It was him who bred the mare to the Black. He knew what he was doin', all right."
    The first week of September approached and with it came the fair at Reading, just fourteen miles from the farm. Tom listened to his uncle and aunt discuss the many reasons why they couldn't afford to go this year; yet he knew that nothing would keep them from attending it. They hadn't missed one in the past forty-three years; Uncle Wilmer had told him that much. And Tom knew too of Aunt Emma's crock of mincemeat that had been standing for three months in the cellar. Aunt Emma was famous for her mincemeat pies, and certainly she would have one in the pie-judging contest this year as in previous years. The entry applications had arrived a week ago, and they had been signed and returned by Aunt Emma. Tom knew that, even if Uncle Wilmer didn't. And Aunt Emma's pie wouldn't be at the fair without Aunt Emma.
    Monday was the first day of the fair and Aunt Emma and Uncle Wilmer were very definite about not going this year. "We always spend too much money," Aunt Emma said. "And when you've seen one fair you've seen them all."
    Uncle Wilmer nodded his egg-shaped head in agreement.
    On Tuesday, Aunt Emma went down to the cellar to taste her mincemeat. Returning to