I might sell him; but there is not a man that wants him. I
cannot even give him away. I will turn him out to shift for himself,
and pick grass by the roadside. If he starves to death, so much the
better."
So the brave old horse was turned out to find what he could among the
rocks on the barren hill-side. Lame and sick, he strolled along the
dusty roads, glad to find a blade of grass or a thistle. The boys
threw stones at him, the dogs barked at him, and in all the world
there was no one to pity him.
One hot afternoon, when no one was upon the street, the horse chanced
to wander into the market place. Not a man nor child was there, for
the heat of the sun had driven them all indoors. The gates were wide
open; the poor beast could roam where he pleased. He saw the
grape-vine rope that hung from the bell of justice. The leaves and
tendrils upon it were still fresh and green, for it had not been there
long. What a fine dinner they would be for a starving horse!
He stretched his thin neck, and took one of the tempting morsels in
his mouth. It was hard to break it from the vine. He pulled at it, and
the great bell above him began to ring. All the people in Atri heard
it. It seemed to say,--
"Some one has done me wrong!
Some one has done me wrong!
Oh! come and judge my case!
Oh! come and judge my case!
For I've been wronged!"
The judges heard it.
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