BARNEY GO BILL

Barney was just a big plodding hammer headed work horse, but Jenny loved him dearly, and claimed him as her own. When Daddy came into the driveway with the horses, she would run to meet him and beg to be allowed to ride Barney to the barn. The patient old horse did seem to have an affinity for children. When Jenny approached, he would stop and lower his head, so she could stroke his velvety nose. Daddy would lift Jenny high in the air and place her astride Barney’s broad back, her short legs sticking nearly straight out. She would hold to the metal part of the harness and Daddy would grasp the reins and walk in front. She could look down on the top of Daddy’s cap, down at the car and over the fences. Everything looked different when you were riding a tall horse. Jenny bubbled over with joy.

Today, as Jenny rode Barney, she was full of questions for Daddy to answer. She already knew the answers to most of them, but she wanted to hear them again.

“Does Barney like me?”

“You bet he does.”

“Would he ever run over me or walk on me?”

“Not if he could help it, he wouldn’t. But stay away from his big hooves. He might not see you down there or he might not be able to stop in time.”

“I’ll be careful. Say Daddy, Barney’s a smart horse, isn’t he? Do you s’pose he knows his name?”

“Just watch this.” In a special voice Daddy called, “Bar-nee, “ and to Jenny’s delight, the animals ears went forward and he raised his head and looked in Daddy’s direction.

“There’s a song about him, Daddy. I heard it once when we still had a radio.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh, you know. Barney go Bill the sailor.”