Phillip preferred riding Prince, a reddish-brown horse that could gallop at full speed. Phillip, too, rode bareback, with just a bridle. Dad bought Prince at a sale north of Mt. Sterling and led him back to our farm by a rope out the car window. I was told that Prince dutifully trotted along the side of the car. That must have been a sight to see!

When we were young, Phillip, Bob, and I would go out at noontime to the fields where Dad was using the horses for farm work and call Dad for dinner. He would unhitch the horses from the machinery so that they could be fed and watered. Dad would reach down, pick us up, and sit us on the horse’s back. I would grasp the brass hames that set atop the horses’ collar and ride back to the farmhouse. What a great thrill to be riding so high. I felt like a king sitting on his throne. Phillip on one horse and me on the other.

My brother Bob was more comfortable around horses than Phillip and me. I was always a little leery for fear that they might step on me. In the summer, the horses were put out in the pasture. If the horses were needed, we had to go out in the field with a bridle, armed with some sweets or sugar. When they were close enough, we slapped the bridle bit in their mouths, and led them back to the barn for harnessing. Bob cut and raked hay with our horses.