pasture. The shyness of her usually forthright gaze told me that she knew her life was about to change irrevocably. When I slipped the strap around her breastbone she hung her head, anticipating the drudgery of all the many workdays that had come before. She kicked when I fastened the belt about her midsection, and again when I tightened it and adjusted the breast strap. The fit, even on that first attempt, was nearly perfectâevidence, it seemed, of Godâs desire for man to have this invention. Sophronia, the cow, kept chewing nonchalantly on her cud, but I knew she was watching with something more than her ordinary interest. I fitted the horseâs lead about her head, and she burred in annoyance.
âAdelaïda!â I called. She appeared in the doorway, now in shadow, with the child on one hip and her distaff in the other hand. âLook at the horse!â
âWhat in Heavenâs name have you done to her?â
âIâve made an invention.â
âIt doesnât look kindly.â
âNever mind its outward formâwill you help me bring the cart?â It was not so heavy that I could not have moved it alone, but I wanted her nigh when the great event took place. She tied the child back up to the bench and rested her spindle against the door frame. Together we maneuvered the awkward cart out of the barn, and pulled it up behind the bewildered horse. I fastened the ends of the contraption to the cart, and tested their hold. The horse hung her head and looked at me askance, but when I clicked my tongue and urged her to follow me by tugging gently upon her lead, she knew the moment of reckoning had arrived, and began, hesitantly, to walk. For what seemed an eternity the traces pulled taut, and then the cart began to roll at a stately pace behind her. The horse, who still believed disaster was imminent, continued to regard me. But nothing went amiss. The cartâs solid iron-clad wheel whined, bumped, and turned as it always had, but nothing pulled at the horseâs throat. I put my hand upon the horseâs neck to stop her.
âAdelaïda,â I said. âClimb up on the cart.â
She pursed her lips. âThis much seems miracle enough.â
âBut another is about to unfold,â I said, uncertain though I was. âClimb on.â I prayed silently as Adelaïda hitched her skirt up, revealing her pale underskirt, and climbed up to the bed. I saw her lips moving, if not in prayer, then in a song of private devotion. Once more I clicked my tongue at the horse, and though she strained to set the cart in motion, she soon lifted her white feet high, and carried Adelaïda without apparent effort toward the southern fields. Adelaïda whooped with glee, for she had never before moved so quickly. No one had ever moved with such speed, and had I not known the cause of her rapid motion, I would surely have thought her an Arab upon a magic carpet or a witch in the Devilâs thrall.
Adelaïda is by no means as heavy as a load of turnips, but she has weight enough, if not to strangle a horse, then to make her struggle in her labors. The horse, however, pulled my fair wife with ease. When at last she tired of her sport, I returned to the barn and brought forth a bale of last yearâs hay, Yoshu nipping at my heels. As I hoisted the hay and the dog onto the cart, both the horse and Adelaïda winced, but the added weight, nearly equal to my wifeâs, did not cause the horse more than a momentâs pause. Finally I stopped the cart again and climbed aboard.
âYves!â my wife cried. âYouâll surely kill her.â Yoshu, ready for adventure, voiced her approval of my scheme.
But I persevered. The horse looked round, wondering where her master had gone. I stood at the forward end of the cart and yelled at her to go, but she did not understand, as I was behind her. I had left her lead dangling before her, as it always had before, so I