Saturday evening, when dad came home from work, we showed him our trick. A soft summer wind blew the circus music over to our farm. When dad saw the act, he stopped and looked. His eyes grew wide, his face turned white. My mare was running back and forth, her head high jumping over the bodies of my two sisters lying on the ground. I was standing proudly, nearby was the trainer stick in my hand. I thought the look on my father's face was surprise, but it was not. It was fear and anger.
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