by H H "Hub" Brown
  
I have always wondered about these people with this great love for horses. I never had it, but my wife must have. She used to tell, even as a girl, how she always walked besides the buggy when coming back to the farm when she had driven to Newark Valley. At that time, they lived on the road that starts out as Wade Hollow but then changes to Dutch Town when you cross Lisle. Her father had bought the farm where Jim Ferguson now lives and in order to help pay for it had taken a job as outsole stitcher in a shoe factory in Endicott, where they would stable them till the end of the week. To exercise them through the week they would hitch them up and drive around some in the evening. 

 The stables at that time were right where UE High School now stands and one evening as Ag's father, Jim Mahar, was making the turn at the end of Washington Avenue, the front wheel of the buggy must have dropped into the trolley track, made a strange noise, the horse jumped, and Mr. Mahar was thrown out and landed on his Mastoid bone. He was unconscious so the EJ doctor told his friend to take him to his room where they stayed and give him a glass of milk when he woke up, but he never woke up and died that morning. 

 Ag was 11-years-old at the time and her youngest sister was one month old. That didn't change Ag's love of horses nor her desire to own a farm and to be a farmer.
 Norma's second daughter, Karen, when she was 2 1/2-years-old, chose a pinto riding horse over a Shetland pony for her favorite pet. And now Karen's daughter, Allison, has a horse or mule. Jim's second son has worked with horses all his life and Jim himself has eight Standardbred horses of various ages. Jim's second daughter's son, Ron, when he is getting a horse ready to go on the track, either for training or racing, knows the names of all the gear and will get it in a hurry for Jim. 
 Monica, who stays here with me, has worked with horses from Ralph Jarvis at the fair grounds to Pompano Beach to Meadowlands and was even sent to Italy on a plane once with a horse and now owns a big retired Standardbred which was given her by some former employers. 

 Jim's helper and grandson does like Ag used to do. Jim keeps a horse just for eight-year-old Ron and when he thinks he has ridden enough he will always get off and walk the horse back to the barn. 

 It's strange how a horse can tell at once whether the person riding him knows how to ride or not. Bob and I learned to ride a little Shetland pony when we were real small. 

 One time a small circus broke up and sold a lot of their horses and ponies. The parents of a couple kids we went to school with bought them a riding horse. One evening they had him down at the ball diamond and asked me if I wanted a ride. As soon as I got on he broke into a slow ganter. Right away they wanted to know what I did to make him do that, said all he would for them was walk. I said I didn't know I had done anything.