Cowgirl and Silver

Once upon a time, long, long ago, before laptops and Leapsters, before cellphones and Nooks, even before mini-skirts, there were two sisters.  These girls played outside and made a covered wagon by throwing  sheets over the clothesline and setting a chair at the open end for the wagon master. Their mother let them have a can of beenie-weenies to eat straight from the can.  It was magic to hear the dull click of the spoon on the side of the can.

 Each of them had a horse, of a different color, of course.  These horses were long sticks with names like Blackie and Ginger.  The girls tied strings from the top of the sticks for the mane, and another string from the top so that they could tie Blackie and Ginger up to the chair in the front of the covered wagon so the horses could walk alongside the wagon.  They put the stick horses between their legs and away they rode, around the house, down the hill and around the sidewalk to the back of the house where their covered wagon was, but only after the skirmish when they defended their covered wagon from their brother and his friend. 
Cap guns drawn, "Pop!, Pop! Pop! Pop!  "We win!"
 ("Did not!" came the yell from the obnoxious boys, three years younger than the girls).
"Did, too!"

It must have been late fall because the tall iris had died back and the weeds were tromped over when the most beautiful horse in the world appeared.  Silver would be his name.  Silver the gas tank horse would have a towel thrown over his back, reins attached and would become the immovable, grand horse of all. Silver never participated in the battles, or walked alongside the covered wagon but would always be the majestic horse at the back of the fence.