Later, as they came in the wagon up along the cutbank, the colt tied down in the wagon box with his head sometimes lifting, sometimes bumping on the boards, the mare trotting after with chuckling vibrations of solicitude in her throat, Bruce leaned far over and tried to touch the colt’s haunch. “Gee whiz!” he said. “Poor old Socks.”
Oh, my, my friends. Get out your box of tissues as Mr. Wallace Stegner has composed one heart-breaking tale of a boy and a crippled colt that, if you got any love of horses or humanity in you will punch you in the chest.
This tale has heft to it and much like Vardis Fisher’s horse tale Scarecrow [also reviewed here] it will stick with you for a while.
It is a work of art, but…you’ve been warned. Hankies required.