Part 2 (1/2)
”Grey s to you, boss--don't she?--an' the black ht e to knock up some sort o' swap Now this ht n't think it I won this here saddle with her at a bit of a meetin' las' week, an' rode her my own self--an' that's oc'lar demonster I tell you, if this here o a hundred mile between sunrise an' sunset, at the saood horses about the King, but swelp ht n't think it to look at her jist now Fact is, boss, she wants a week or a fortnit spell Could n't ork up so head?
If I got a trifle o' cash to boot, I would n't in' in this saddle, an' takin' yours Now, boss, don't be a (adj) fool”
”To tell you the truth,” I replied, ”that black horse has carried a pack so long that he's about cooked for saddle But he does h”
”Then I'll tell you what I'll do!” exclaio you an even swap for that little weed of a grey mare! At a word, mind! I'm a reckless sort o' (person) when I take the notion! but without a word of exaggeration, I would n't do it on'y for being fixed the way I aot a fortune in her for a ue!” interposed M'Nab, ith the half-caste--a lithe, active lad of eighteen--had joined us ”Is it swappin' ye i' decent ot the sthrenth fur till kerry it own hide, let alone a great gommeril on it back An' thon's furnent ye!
hello, Ta A did n't know ye at wanst”
”Good day, Mr M'Nab Alterations since I delivered you that wire at Poondoo
Been in the wars?” For M'Nab was leaning forward and sideways in his saddle, evidently in pain
”Yis,” replied the contractor frankly ”There was some Irish rascals at the pub thonder, where we stapped las' night; an' ord brung on another, an' at long an' at last we fell to, so we did; on' A'in wan
A b'lee some o' me ribs is bruk”
”I' a point for courtesy
”Are you an Orange fellow had a bunged eye, and a flake of skin off his cheek-bone
”No, by Cripes!” responded my countryman emphatically ”Not ive a daht I seen for ar'd on'y square up with me, I'd let summedy else do his”----
”Thon's a brave wee shi+lty, sur-thon grey wan o' yours,”
broke in the contractor, who had been conversing with Tho enviously at Fancy, hitched behind the wagon ”Boys o' dear,”
he added reflectively, ”she's jist sich another as may wee Dolly; an' A've been luckin' fur a match fur Dolly this menny's the day
How oul' is she, sur?”
”Six, this spring”
”Ay--that! Ye wud n't be fur partin' we her, sur? A'it thon baste Houl' an”--he pondered ahack he was riding, then at the nificent animal which carried the half-caste ”Houl' an Gimme a thrifle fur luck, an' take ether wan o' them two A'll thrust ye till do the leck furwith the red-headed fellow, and the fascination of swapping was upon him, poorly backed by his suicidal candour
The utter si his oo horses--worth, respectively, to all appearance, 8 and 30--and the frank confession of his desire to have my mare at any price, made me feel honestly compunctious
”Now thon's a brave loose lulanced over the half-caste's splendid mount ”Aisy till ketch, an' as quite as ye plaze”
”How old is he, Mr M'Nab?”
”He must be purty oul', he's so quite and thractable Ye kin luck at his mouth A don't ondherstand the marks myself”
I opened the horse's ret to record that I shooktiot hiht be this time yistherday
There's the resate An' here's the resate the o beyant a poun' resate”
”Why do you want to get rid of the horse, Mr M'Nab?”
”Begog, A don't want till git red iv the baste, sich as he is,”