Charlie flew up into the top of the barn.

"There's lots of hay up here," he called down to Stuart.

Charlie flew to the other side of the barn.

"Hey, there's lots of straw up here too."

"Straw, please," said Stuart.   "Straw is softer than hay, hay is too picky."

Charlie flew down to Stuart.   He had a beak full of straw.   He pushed it into Stuart's empty shirt sleeve.

"You just sit right here, kid, and relax," said Charlie.   "I'll make a few more trips and have you fixed up in no time."

"Thanks, Charlie," said Stuart.   "I sure do appreciate it."

Stuart turned toward the horse.

"What's your name and what are you?" asked Stuart.

"Horace," said the horse.   "I'm a horse.   Can I have the straw that's sticking out of your other sleeve?"

"You most certainly cannot!" said Stuart, as he edged away from the horse.   "We'll find you something else to eat."

Soon Charlie had Stuart's sleeve stuffed full again.

Stuart said, "Charlie, the horse's name is Horace and he is hungry.   Do you think you could make a few more trips and get him some hay to eat?"

"What do I look like, kid?   Some flying, feeding machine?   Let's get outta here."

Horace poked his big head through the stall door.

"If you get me something to eat, I'll go with you," he said.   "I'll carry you both on my back if you're tired."

Charlie walked up and down the edge of the stall.   He stopped and looked at Horace.

"All right.   What do you want to eat?"

Horace looked back over his broad shoulder.  

"There's a feed bag of oats back there.   Could you get them for me?"

Charlie flew past Horace to the back wall and grabbed the strap of the feed bag.   It slipped off the nail it was hooked to and fell to the floor.

Charlie picked up the strap on the feed bag with his beak.   He dragged it across the floor.

"First the kid and now this," he muttered.   "I should have never stopped here today.   I should have kept right on flying.   If it's not one thing, it's another.   Oh well, if it has to be, I guess it's up to me.   Hey, kid, can you help me out with this?"

Stuart leaned over the stall door.   Charlie slipped the strap of the feed bag over Stuart's arm.   Stuart lifted it up and dumped it into Horace's feeding trough.

"Thanks fellas," said Horace as he started munching on the oats.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Charlie.   "Just hurry it up.   The rain has stopped and the sun is coming out.   Mr. Johnson will be coming out here any minute.   We've got to get on our way."

"Oh, yes.   Please do hurry," said Stuart.   "I don't want to go stand in the muddy garden today."

After a few more minutes, Horace stepped back from his feeding trough.

"I think I've had enough," burped Horace.   "I'm ready whenever you are."

Stuart looked around.   He saw a small door leading to Horace's stall.

"Charlie, help me open that door so I can get into Horace's stall.   We can climb on Horace's back and leave.   It looks like Billy forgot to close the back door and we can go out that way."

Horace knelt down so that Stuart could get up on his back.   Charlie flew down and perched on Stuart's shoulder.

"Giddy-up there Horace," laughed Stuart.   "We're off to see the world!"

Horace stepped carefully out of the back door.   Mr. Johnson let himself into the front door of the barn.   He was ready to milk the cows.   He did not see the three leave by the back way.