My father went stalking out to the barn. He was not stalking when he came back half an hour later. His own love of horses gave him a complete understanding of Sim’s affection for Daisy. He did not need Sim. He much preferred to have us do the work – but he did not send Sim away. Instead he had a coachman’s room finished off in a corner of the carriage barn. There was a stove to keep the place warm in winter, and there was a comfortable bed – though I was never sure whether Sim slept in it or not. But in any event that is where he lived out his span. Daisy survived him. She was well along in the twenties when my father pensioned her for life and sent her out to a farm where there were green pastures, plenty of shade trees, and a brook of running water.