Of all the horses on Cloverfield Farm, Prince was the one the children liked best.

Prince would take a lump of sugar from Bobby's hand and not bite him. He would let Bobby and Betty come near and not kick them.

Sometimes Bobby rode on Prince's back, very slowly, with Father walking along beside.

"When shall I be allowed to go trotting down the road all alone, like John and Sue?" asked Bobby.

"Not until you are older," answered Father.

One day Bobby was down in the field where Hobson was working. When the dinner bell rang, Bobby said, "Let me ride Prince up to the barn."

"You might fall off," said Hobson. "I think I had better not let you."

"I can hang on," said Bobby. "Father lets me ride sometimes."

Hobson thought a moment. "All right; if you'll be careful, I'll let you ride this time," he said.

He let Daisy go on ahead, and then lifted Bobby to Prince's back with the big, clumsy work harness still on.

"Hold on tight and go slow," said he, as he gave Bobby the check rein.

Through the gap into the lane went Daisy, up the lane toward the barn. Prince and Bobby followed.

When Father let Bobby ride up to the barn, he always walked along beside. But after Hobson had started them off, he went across lots to the barn.

So there was Bobby riding Prince all alone.

How big and grand he felt!

When they were part way up the lane, Daisy, who was in a hurry for her dinner, began to trot.

"Let us trot, too," said Bobby. "Get-up, Prince."

Prince was hungry and thirsty. So when Bobby said a second time, "Get-up, Prince," and pulled on the check rein, Prince began to trot.

Father was in the farmyard at the head of the lane, fixing the drill for the wheat sowing.

"I can ride as well as John or Sue," thought Bobby. "I'll show Father I can."

Up and down, up and down, he bounded as Prince trotted along.

Prince was enjoying it too.

"I'll give Bobby a good ride," he thought. And he arched his neck and trotted proudly up the lane.

Bobby felt happy and grand.

Prince felt happy and grand.

Now along the sides of the lane, there were thistle patches; and in one place near the head of the lane, there was a low stone pile with thistles growing up between the stones.

Bobby always kept away from thistle patches when he was barefoot.

They had gotten almost to the head of the lane, when Prince began to trot faster. Bobby bounded up and down higher than ever, his bare feet hitting the horse's sides at every step.

And then, the first thing he knew, he began to slide off.

"Whoa! whoa!" he shouted.

He grabbed a piece of the harness and tried to hold on, but at every step Prince took he slid farther.

"Whoa! whoa!" he shouted again.

Prince slowed up, but it was too late. He turned his head just in time to see Bobby tumble to the ground. Then he stopped stock still.

Down on the stones and the thistles Bobby fell.

This was bad enough, but then he rolled against Prince's hind foot, a little stunned by the fall.

Father saw Bobby fall and ran toward him, thinking as he ran, "Oh, what if Prince steps on Bobby or kicks him?"

And Father ran faster than he had ever run before.

But there Prince stood and kept his foot as still as still could be, until Father came and pulled Bobby away. Then Prince started on to the barn.

"Are you hurt?" asked Father.

"Not much," replied Bobby, as he rubbed his bruises.

Father helped him get the thistles out of his bare feet and legs. There were sixteen.

"That was a grand ride, though," said Bobby.

They went to the barn together and came up to Prince at the watering-trough.

Father took Prince's face in his two hands and in his kindest voice said, "You are a wonderful horse, Prince. Thank you for being careful of my Bobby. You shall have some extra oats to-day."

When Sue was told about it, she found another blue ribbon and tied it on Prince's bridle.