41

seized upon as a fit name. "Powder Face," the war chief of the Arrapahoes, has won,in well-fought combats and desperate ventures, the right to adopt a dozen names, yet he is known to all plains tribes, and to the whites, by the title which was given him from having his face badly burned by an explosion of powder when he was a young man. "Man-afraid-of-his-horses," one of the greatest warriors in plains history before "Red Cloud" or "Sitting Bull," recieved, it is said, his name from having, on the occasion of an attack on his camp by hostile Indians, saved his horses while, unfortunately, his family fell into the hands of the enemy. - Gen. Dodge's "Thirty Years among the Indians."

SHAKESPEARE ON THE HORSE.
IN "VENUS AND ADONIS."

Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
And now his woven girths he breaks asunder;
The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds.
Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder,
The iron bit he crushes 'tween his teeth,
Controlling what he was controlled with.

His ears up-pricked, his braided, hanging mane
Upon his compassed crest now stand on end;
His nostrils drink the air, and forth again
As from a furnace, vapors doth he send,
His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire,
Shows his hot courage and his high desire.

Sometimes he trots, as if he told the steps
With gentle majesty and modest pride;
Anon he rears upright, curvets, and leaps,
As who should say, Lo! thus my strength is tried;
And this I do to captivate the eye
Of the fair breeder that is standing by.

What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
His flattering holla, or his "Stand, I say"?
What cares he now for curb or pricking spur,
For rich caparisons, or trapping gay?
He sees his love, and nothing else he sees,
Nor nothing else with his proud sight agrees

Look, when a painter would surpass the life
In limning out a well-proportioned steed,
His art with nature's workmanship at strife,
As if the dead the living should exceed;
So did this horse exceed a common one,
In shape, in color, courage, peace, and bone.

Round hoof'd, short jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostrils wide,
High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong.
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide.
Look, what a horse should have he did not lack,
Save a proud rider on so proud a back.

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seized upon as a fit name. "Powder Face," the war chief of the Arrapahoes, has won,in well-fought combats and desperate ventures, the right to adopt a dozen names, yet he is known to all plains tribes, and to the whites, by the title which was given him from having his face badly burned by an explosion of powder when he was a young man. "Man-afraid-of-his-horses," one of the greatest warriors in plains history before "Red Cloud" or "Sitting Bull," recieved, it is said, his name from having, on the occasion of an attack on his camp by hostile Indians, saved his horses while, unfortunately, his family fell into the hands of the enemy. - Gen. Dodge's "Thirty Years among the Indians."

SHAKESPEARE ON THE HORSE.
IN "VENUS AND ADONIS."

Imperiously he leaps, he neighs, he bounds,
And now his woven girths he breaks asunder;
The bearing earth with his hard hoof he wounds.
Whose hollow womb resounds like heaven's thunder,
The iron bit he crushes 'tween his teeth,
Controlling what he was controlled with.

His ears up-pricked, his braided, hanging mane
Upon his compassed crest now stand on end;
His nostrils drink the air, and forth again
As from a furnace, vapors doth he send,
His eye, which scornfully glisters like fire,
Shows his hot courage and his high desire.

Sometimes he trots, as if he told the steps
With gentle majesty and modest pride;
Anon he rears upright, curvets, and leaps,
As who should say, Lo! thus my strength is tried;
And this I do to captivate the eye
Of the fair breeder that is standing by.

What recketh he his rider's angry stir,
His flattering holla, or his "Stand, I say"?
What cares he now for curb or pricking spur,
For rich caparisons, or trapping gay?
He sees his love, and nothing else he sees,
Nor nothing else with his proud sight agrees

Look, when a painter would surpass the life
In limning out a well-proportioned steed,
His art with nature's workmanship at strife,
As if the dead the living should exceed;
So did this horse exceed a common one,
In shape, in color, courage, peace, and bone.

Round hoof'd, short jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostrils wide,
High crest, short ears, straight legs, and passing strong.
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide.
Look, what a horse should have he did not lack,
Save a proud rider on so proud a back.

(40)