Dennis Wesley - Justin Morgan Had a Horse

To my Morgan horse, Friday, and to Fred Tejan, who gentled him

T HIS IS THE STORY of a common, ordinary little work horse who turned out to be the father of a famous family of American horses. He lived in the Green Mountain country of Vermont in the days when America was growing up. In fact, he helped it grow up. He dragged logs and cleared the land. He helped build the first log houses. He helped build bridges and cut roads through the wilderness.

Even in his own lifetime, the willingness of this little horse became an American legend. He labored hard all day, and then at sundown, when he should have been fed and bedded down for the night, he took part in races and pulling bees. He could walk faster, trot faster, run faster, and pull heavier logs than any other horse in all Vermont!

Today his descendants, known as Morgan horses, are renowned throughout the world. Yet nobody knows whether that first Morgans parents were British or French or Dutch. And nobody really cares. As Joel Goss figured it out: Hes just like us. Hes American. Thats what he is! American!

M.H .

T HE LITTLE reddish-brown colt stopped nibbling grass. He lifted his head high and sniffed the noonday wind. His nostrils fluttering, he sniffed again. Long, quivering sniffs. A man and a boy were coming up the road. They must have journeyed a long way, for their man-smell was almost blotted by dust.

Now the colt whinnied sharply. Instantly a bigger colt, scratching at a green-head fly, alerted. He alerted so suddenly it seemed as if his name had been called out. He trotted over to the little colt, touching noses with him. Then his ears pricked as he caught the sound of booted feet walking slowly, and of bare feet running. Now he, too, knew that strangers were coming up the road.

Wearily, wearily the mans steps dragged. As he reached the fence, he rested his arms on the top rail and his whole body seemed to go limp. The boy leaned against the fence too, but not from weariness. His was an urgent desire to get close to the colts. The boys blue linsey-woolsey shirt was faded and torn, and his breeches, held up by a strip of cowhide, were gray with dust. His stubbly hair was straw-colored, like a cut-over field of wheat. Everything about him looked dry and parched. Everything except his eyes. They peered over the fence with a lively look, and his tongue wet his dry lips.

You! he said with a quick catch of his breath, as the littler colt came over and gazed curious-eyed at him. I could gentle you, I could.

The man sighed. Were here at last, Joel. We can put our bundles down and rest a spell before we see if Farmer Beanes at home.

The boy had not heard. He just stood on tiptoe, holding his bundle and gaping at the colts as if he had never seen their like before. That little one... he whispered.

Just then a door slammed shut, and from the house beyond the meadow a farmer in his working clothes started down a footpath toward them. How-de-do! he called out as he came closer. Two rods from them, he shaded his eyes and stared intently.

With a whistle of surprise he stopped in his tracks. Great Jumping Jehoshaphat! he shouted. If it aint Justin Morgan, schoolmaster and singing teacher! Why, Im as pleasured to see you as a dog with two tails. He set down a bucket he was carrying and shook hands across the fence. Whos the fledgling you got with you? he asked, pointing a thumb toward the boy.

This lad is Joel Goss, one of my scholars. I board with his parents, the schoolmaster explained. And when I mentioned that Id be going off on a junket till school starts, I could see he wanted to traipse along. Joel, he said, putting his hand on the boys shoulder, Id like you to meet Farmer Beane, an old neighbor of mine.

Reluctantly Joel turned from the colts to face the farmer. He had never been introduced before. It made him blush to the roots of his sunburnt hair.

Cat got your tongue, boy? the farmer said, not unkindly. Or be you smitten on the colts? And without waiting for an answer, he popped more questions. Where in tarnation you two come from? You haint come all the ways from Randolph, Vermont, to Springfield, Massachusetts, be you?

Justin Morgan nodded.

Sakes alive! You must be all tuckered out. Why, even as the crow flies, its over a hundred mile down here. You didnt walk the hull way, I hope.

The schoolmaster took off his hat and ran his fingers through graying hair. Yes, Abner; that is, most all the way, except when Lem Tubbs and his team of oxen gave us a short haul into Chicopee.

Well, gosh all fishhooks, lets not stand here a-gabbin. Come in, come in! The womanll give us hot cakes and tea. Ill bet Joel here could do with some vittles. Hes skinny as a fiddle string. Come in, and by and by we can chat.

All during the conversation the colts had been inching closer and closer to Farmer Beane. Now they were nipping at his sleeves and snuffing his pockets.

These tarnal critters love to be the hull show, chuckled the farmer, reaching into his pockets. If I dont bring em their maple sugar, the day just dont seem right to them. Nor to me, neither.

Justin Morgan steadied himself against the fence. Abner, he said, before Joel and I sit down to your table, it seems I should tell you why Ive come. He paused, nervously drumming the top rail for courage. After a while he looked up and his glance went beyond the meadow and the rolling hills. Ive come, he swallowed hard, because Ive a need for the money you owed me when I moved away to Vermont.

There was a moment of silence. It was so still that the colts munching their sugar seemed to be very noisy about it. Joel thought of the bright red apple he had eaten last night. He wished now that he had saved it for them.

It was a long time before the farmer could answer. Then he said, Youve come a terrible long way, Justin, and tis hard for me to disappoint you. But me and the woman have had nothin but trouble. He began counting off his troubles on his fingers: Last year, my cows got in the cornfield and et theirselves sick and died; year afore that, the corn was too burned to harvest; year afore that, our house caught afire. I just haint got the money.