ALways on a Tuesday, under the holly bush stood the filly eating a bag of oats held by the gilly called Billy. It was usually a scene of peace and calm, but this Tuesday something was amiss. What was it that could sully the scene? There was clearly something on Billy's mind so that his relationship with the young horse was dully, so much so that the horse didn't fully finish the oats. Whatever it was had gone by next Tuesday and the scene was back to normal.
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