A PENSIONER Mention in my paper of a dog that
jumped out of a train some time ago and eventually found its way home, a distance of thirty miles, reminds me of a much-petted old pony I know that was pensioned off. The pony, willing, but no longer able, to keep pace with the others, was finally sold a week or two ago. The purchaser was a man who lives in the next county. The pensioner was taken away in the evening and put out to grass in her new field. Early next morning her erstwhile owner came down to his stable and there, to his astonishment, stood the old pony he had sold the evening before. She had broken out of her field and cantered home between mid- night and break of day. On the way she had either swum a river or bolted through a toll- gate where a keeper is always on duty. In addition to this she had made the right choice at half a dozen crossings. 'Not much use try- ing to sell her again,' said her old owner when the deal fell through.
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