Horse

Erickson was returning from school one day and a runaway horse with a bridle on sped past him into a farmer’s yard looking for a drink of water. The horse was perspiring heavily. And the farmer didn’t recognize it so we cornered it.

Erickson hopped on the horse’s back. Since it had a bridle on, Erickson took hold of the tick rein and said, “Giddy-up.”
Headed for the road, Erickson knew the horse would turn in the right direction. He didn’t know what the right direction was.
And the horse trotted and galloped along.
Now and then the horse would forget he was on the highway and start into a field.
So Erickson would pull on him a bit and call his attention to the fact the highway was where he was supposed to be.

And finally, about four miles from where Erickson had boarded him, the horse turned into a farm yard and the farmer said, “So the runaway has come back. Where did you find him?”
Erickson said, “About four miles from here.”
“How did you know you should come here?”
Erickson said, “I didn’t know. The horse knew. All I did was keep his attention on the road.”

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