"How dreadfully she will
feel!"
Addison closely examined the bodies of the colts. "I cannot understand
what did it!" he exclaimed. "No marks. No blood. It wasn't wild animals.
It couldn't have been lightning, for there hasn't been a thundershower
this season. Must be something they've eaten."
We looked all along the brook, but could see no Indian poke, the fresh
growths of which will poison stock. Nor had we ever seen ground hemlock
or poisonous ivy there. The clearing was nearly all good, grassy upland
such as farmers consider a safe pasturage. Truly the shadow of tragedy
seemed to hover there.
We bore our sorrowful tidings home, and the old Squire was as much
astonished and mystified as every one else. None of us had the heart
either to carry the sad news or even to send word of it to Mrs. Kennard;
but we notified the owner of the Percherons at once. He came to look
into the matter the next morning.
The affair made an unusual stir, and all that Monday a considerable
number of persons walked up to the clearing to see if they could
determine the cause of the colts' mysterious death. Many and various
were the conjectures. Some professed to believe that the colts had been
wantonly poisoned.
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