Part 2 (2/2)
replied M'Nab resentfully ”But A want thon wee shi+lty, an' A evened a swap till ye, fur it's a prodistaner thing nor lavin' awith the horse, Steve?” I asked in an undertone
”Perfect to the eye,” murmured Thompson ”Try him a mile, full tilt”
I estion, the half-caste unhitched and tried Fancy, while I mounted the black horse, and turned him across the plain I tried hi to equal that elastic step and long, easy, powerful stride To ride that horse was to feel free, exultant, invincible
His gallop was like Marching Through Georgia, vigorously rendered by a good brass band All that has been written of man's noblest friend-- from the dim, uncertain time when some unknown hand, in a leisure moment, dashed off the Thirty-ninth chapter of the Book of Job, to the yesterday when Long Gordon translated into ringing verse the rhythht find fulfilment in this unvalued beast, now providentially owned by the softest of foreigners
”Well?” interrogated M'Nab, as I rejoined him
”Don't you think he's a bit chest-foundered?” I asked in reply
”Divil a wan o' h fur till fine out”
”And howof shame which did honour to my heart
”Och, now, lave this! Boot! is it? Sure A cud kerry thon wee shi+lty ondher ivin' me a thrifle fur luck
A'll let ye aff o notes”
But after five reed to an even swap
I had pen and ink in my pocket; ed Then the saddles were shi+fted, and we cantered ahead till we rejoined Thoon, where, for the first five minutes, he severely tested the inch rope which secured hiive you my word that the mare is just what you see Youwith the horse?”
”Ax Billy about thon Mebbe he's foun' out some thricks, or somethin'”
”Well, look here,” said Billy devoutly--”I hope Gord'll strike me stark, stiff, stone dead off o' this saddle if the horse has any tricks, or anythin' wrong with hiht There! I've swore it”
”Well, thea hundred
Call her Fancy”
”The horse's na ye'll fine him wan out iv a thousan' A chris'ned hiood nae it”
And I never did change it, though, often afterward, men of clerkly attainments took me aside and kindly pointed out what they conceived to be a blunder
I have dwelt, perhaps tediously, upon this swap; ains during the days of my vanity, the memory is a pleasant one; and, second, that the horse will necessarily play a certain part in these memoirs
”Well, we'll be pushi+n' an, Billy,” said M'Nab; ”the sun's gittin' low
An' you needn't tailto Rufus
”Loaf an these people the night A man thravellin' his lone, an' nat a shi+llin' in his pocket!”
”O, go an' bark up a tree, you rel!” replied the war-ood tailin' you up!
A man that sets down to his dinner without askin' another ot a mouth on him or not! Polite sort o' (person) you are!
Gerrout! you bin dragged up on the cheap!”