A wonder working power in the precious...

...credible as they seem are not the results of mass stereo...

You may wish to adjust the dial.

You're currently tuned to the wrong station. I'm Primary source number 11. Delivered before a House subcommittee as part of the extended

Haster-Coburg's edition hearings, the infamous horse-killer testimony, is here presented without

comment by the editors of this collection. As ever, please be sure to assess this primary source for bias,

using the reference questions provided at the beginning of this chapter.

When I was little, I lived down the road from a ranch where they raised horses for film shoots and racing and things like that.

That farm was more of a home to me than my real home.

It was where my heart lived.

Whenever things were bad at home or at school, and they usually were,

I'd walk the mile and a half down the dirt road to where the ranch fence ended

under a handful of pine trees.

I'd climb up onto the fence and sit there, watching the horses run past.

Even though they were inside that fence, they were so free.

After a time I got to know them, their various personalities.

Some of them were fierce, and some of them were mischievous, and some of them were calm. But they got to know me, too, and all of them liked me, even though I was poor, and I only rarely had a bit of carrot or apple to offer them.

I think they liked me because I saw them for what they really were.

They were like me.

One of the horses was named Umber.

She was dark as rich earth, sleek as water.

She ran light as air, and she could sense when you were down. Anytime I had a bad day and I walked down to the fence, she'd be right there waiting.

...