From Farm House to the White House - 912 Freedom Library

Farm House to the White House, by William M. Thayer 42
wild creature leaped and plunged and kicked. His companions looked on in breathless interest, expecting
every moment to see the young rider hurled to the ground. But, to their surprise, the colt stumbled, staggered a
few steps, and fell, George still upon his back. They ran to the rescue, when George exclaimed, "The colt is
dead!"
"Dead?" responded one of the boys in astonishment, "more likely his leg is broken."
"No, he is dead, sure. See the blood running from his mouth."
Sure enough, the animal was dying. In his fearful plunging he had ruptured a blood-vessel, and was bleeding
to death. In a few moments the young Arabian colt was dead.
"Too bad!" mournfully spoke George, with big tears starting to his eyes. "I wish I had never made the attempt
to ride him."
"I wish so now," answered one of his companions; "but who ever thought that the colt could kill himself?"
"Mother will feel bad enough now," continued George. "I am sorry that I have caused her so much trouble."
"What shall you tell her?" inquired a companion.
"I shall tell her the truth," manfully answered George; "that is all there is to tell about it."
The boys were soon at the breakfast-table, as cheerful as the circumstances would permit.
"Well, boys, have you seen the Arabian colt in your walks this morning?" Mrs. Washington inquired.
There was no reply for a moment. The boys looked at each other as if the crisis had come, and they were not
quite prepared for it. At length George answered frankly:
"Mother, the colt is dead."
"Dead!" his mother exclaimed, "what can you mean, George?"
"He is certainly dead, mother."
"Have you seen him?"
"Yes; and I know that he is dead."
"How could such a thing happen?" said his mother, sadly and musingly.
"I will tell you all about it, mother," replied George, resolved upon making a clean breast of the affair. He
went on to narrate how he arrived at the conclusion to ride the colt, not forgetting to say that he thought his
mother would be pleased with the act if he succeeded in riding the fractious animal successfully. He described
the manner of catching, bridling, and mounting the colt, as well as his furious plunging, rearing, and running;
and he closed by the honest confession, "I did wrong, mother, and I am very sorry that I attempted to ride the
colt. I hope that you will forgive me, and I will never be so disobedient again."
"Forgive you, my son," his mother answered, evidently too well satisfied with the truthfulness of her boy to
think much of her loss, "your frankness in telling me the truth is worth a thousand colts to me. Most gladly do
I forgive you, and trust that the lesson you are taught by this unfortunate affair will go with you through life."