Montreal is a very large city but like all large cities it has some very small streets for instance like Prince Edward Street which is only four blocks long no one knew Prince Edward Street as well as Pierre Dupin did. For Pierre had delivered milk to the families on the street for 30 years now.

During the past fifteen years, the horse that drew the milk wagon used by Pierre was a large white horse named Joseph. 

Each morning Pierre arrived at the stables of the Milk Company at five o’clock. It was here that Joseph slept at night. The wagon would be loaded and Joseph hitched to it ready to pull the wagon. Pierre would call hello old friend as he climbed into his seat. Joseph would turn his head and the other drivers would smile and say that the horse would smile at Pierre. Then Jacques the boss would say all right Pierre go on. Pierre would call softly to Joseph, go ahead my friend and the two friends rode proudly down the street.

Pierre would boast at the stable of Joseph’s skill. He would say I never need to touch the reins. He knows just where to stop. I don’t need to pull the rein to control him at all. Why, a blind man could handle my route with Joseph pulling the wagon. Anyone could do my route. He was very proud of Joseph’s ability and often boasted to the other milkman in this way. S

So it went on for years always the same. Pierre and Joseph both grew old together. Pierre’s huge mustache was pure white now. It hung down from his upper lip almost covering his mouth completely. Joseph didn’t lift his knees so high or raise his head quite as much. Jacques never noticed that they were both getting old until Pierre appeared one morning carrying a heavy walking stick.

Hey Pierre Jacques laughed maybe you got the gout hey? Of course Jacques, Pierre said a bit uncertainly. One grows old. One’s legs get tired. You should teach that horse to carry the milk to the front door for you, Jacques told him. He does everything else. 

One morning the company president came to inspect the deliveries in Jacques’s area. He liked to check that his workers were doing a good job. Jacques reminded the president that Pierre had been a good worker for many years. He asked if the old man might be given a pension and allowed to retire. The president agreed at once. Pensions were not usually given to workers but because Pierre had worked so hard for the company the president felt they should pay him even after he stopped working 

But Pierre was shocked by the offer. In fact he hated the very idea of retirement. He wanted to work with his old friend Joseph. So no more was said of his this. 

Then one morning Jacques had terrible news for Pierre when he arrived. it was a cold morning and still dark. the air was like ice that morning. and the snow that had fallen during the night glistened like a million diamonds in the dark moonlight. 

Jacques said Pierre your horse Joseph did not wake up this morning. he was very old Pierre. he was twenty-five. and that is like being seventy-five for a man. 

yes Pierre said slowly yes I am seventy-five. and I cannot see Joseph again. of course you can Jack’s soothed. he could see that Pierre was very upset and wanted to make him feel better. he is over in his stall in the stable looking very peaceful. go over and see him. Pierre took one step forward then turned. no no you don’t understand Jacques. Jacques clapped him on the shoulder and rested his hand there. we’ll find another horse just as good as Joseph. Why, in a month you’ll teach him to know your route as well as Joseph did. We’ll.  

The look in Pierre’s eyes stopped him. for years Pierre had worn a heavy cap. The peak at the front of his hat came low over his eyes keeping the bitter morning wind out of them. now Jacques looked into Pierre’s eyes and saw something that startled him making him feel quite shocked. he saw a dead lifeless look in them. the eyes were mirroring the grief that was in Pierce’s heart and his soul. it was as though his heart and soul had died under the weight of so much sadness.

take today off Pierre Jacques said. but already Pierre was walking down the street and had one been near one would have seen tears streaming down his cheeks and this part of his face glistening and have heard half smothered sobs as he cried to himself. there was a warning cry from the driver of a huge truck that was coming fast. there was the scream of breaks. but Pierre apparently heard neither.

Five minutes later an ambulance driver who had come to take Pierre to hospital said he’s dead. killed instantly. I couldn’t help it. the driver of the truck protested. he walked right into my truck. he never saw it I guess. Why, he walked into it as though he were blind. 

The ambulance doctor bent down. Blind? of course the man was blind. see those cataracts? This man has been blind for five years. he turned to Jacques. you say he worked for you. didn’t you know he was blind. no no Jacques said softly. none of us knew. only one knew friend of his named Joseph. it was a secret I think just between those two.
