“The people of Hilltown heartily approved of this plan, and several were anxious to help him.

“Deacon Cowles had a four-year-old colt, raised on the farm, ’a real clever steady-goin’ creetur, that he guessed he could spare—­might be turned in for pew-rent;’ and Si Olcott didn’t care if he traded off his gray mare on the same conditions.  She was about used up for farm-work, but had considerable go in her yet—­could jog round with the parson for ten years to come.

“The minister received these offers with politeness, and promised to think of them; and then one day after a brief absence from home, set every body in the parish talking, by driving into town seated in an open wagon, shining with fresh paint and varnish, and drawn by a horse the like of which had never been seen in Hilltown before.

“He was of a large and powerful build, and most comely and graceful in proportion, with a small head, slender legs, and flowing mane and tail.  In color, he was milk-white, while his nose and the inside of his pointed ears were of a delicate pink.  He held his head high, stepping proudly and glancing from side to side in a nervous, excited way; but he had a kind eye, and the watching neighbors saw him take an apple from the hand of his new master, after they turned in at the parsonage gate.  In answer to all questions, the parson said he had purchased the horse at Winterport, of a seafaring man, that he was eight years old, and his name was Peter.  But to neither man nor woman in Hilltown did he ever tell the sum he paid in yellow gold and good bank-notes for the white horse,

“A few days after the purchase, Parson Lorrimer attended a funeral, and when the service at the house was ended, and he had shaken hands all round with the mourners, and exchanged greetings with neighbors and friends, he stepped out to the side-yard, where he had fastened his horse, and drove round the house to take his place before the hearse; for in Hilltown it was the custom for the minister to lead the procession to the burying-ground.

“It was Peter’s first appearance in an official capacity, and he stepped with sufficient dignity into the street, where a long line of wagons and chaises, led off by the mourners’ coach and the big black hearse, waited the signal to start, while in the door-yard and along the sidewalk were ranged the foot-passengers; for at a funeral in Hilltown everybody went to the grave.

“A passing breeze caught a piece of paper lying in the road, and flirted it close to Peter’s eyes.  He gave a tremendous leap sideways, and it was a marvel no one was struck by his flying heels, then gathering himself together he ran.  How he did run!  The good folks scattered right and left with amazing quickness, considering their habits of life; for in the slow little town, every body took things fair and easy, and the white horse dashed past the string of wagons, the mourners’ equipage, and the tall black hearse.  There was a cloud of