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"Well, you needn't tell, smarty," said Tuck, with a squeal and a kick. "I'd heard o' kisses, o' course," Tedda went on, "but they hadn't come my way specially. I don't mind tellin' I was that took aback at that man's doin's he might ha' lit fire-crackers on my saddle.
"Top-buggy means the baby's in behind, an' I kin stop while she gathers the pretty flowers yes, an' pick a maouthful, too. The women-folk all say I hev to be humoured, an' -I don't kerry things to the sweatin'-point." "'Course I've no prejudice against a top-buggy s' long 's I can see it," Tedda went on quickly.
"Ef the shoe fits, clinch it," said Tedda, snorting. "I named no names, though, to be sure, some folks are mean enough an' greedy enough to do 'thout 'em." "There's a deal to be forgiven to ignorance," said the yellow horse, with an ugly look in his blue eye. "Seemin'ly, yes; or some folks 'u'd ha' been kicked raound the pasture 'bout onct a minute sence they came board er no board."
Tedda scrambled on the ledge, and cramped the coupe in the shade of a tiny little wood of pines, while my companion and I lay down among the brown, silky needles, and gasped. All the home horses were gathered round us, enjoying their Sunday leisure. There were Rod and Rick, the seniors on the farm.
It was a broiling hot day, and we could not find the horses anywhere till we let Tedda Gabler, the bobtailed mare who throws up the dirt with her big hooves exactly as a tedder throws hay, have her head. Clever as she is, she tipped the coupe over in a hidden brook before she came out on a ledge of rock where all the horses had gathered, and were switching flies.
It was a broiling hot day, and we could not find the horses anywhere till we let Tedda Gabler, the bobtailed mare who throws up the dirt with her big hooves exactly as a tedder throws hay, have her head. Clever as she is, she tipped the coupe over in a hidden brook before she came out on a ledge of rock where all the horses had gathered, and were switching flies.
This saint, or priest, has, however, a rival at Tedda. The two popes together pretend to decide the fate of the Empire. The districts where these Grand Marabouts reside, are without governors, and the inhabitants pay no tribute into the imperial coffers, they are ruled by their two priests under a species of theocracy. The Emperor never attempts or dares to contest their privileges.
Tedda scrambled on the ledge, and cramped the coupe in the shade of a tiny little wood of pines, while my companion and I lay down among the brown, silky needles, and gasped. All the home horses were gathered round us, enjoying their Sunday leisure. There were Rod and Rick, the seniors on the farm.
'S'pose we want our men walkin' round with bits er lead pipe an' a twitch, an' their hands full o' stones to throw at us, same's if we wuz hogs er hooky keows? More'n that, leavin' out Tedda here an' I guess it's more her maouth than her manners stands in her light there ain't a horse on this farm that ain't a woman's horse, an' proud of it.
"Kin you hold back when the brichin' breaks? Kin you stop fer orders when your nigh hind leg's over your trace an' ye feel good of a frosty mornin'?" said Nip, who had only learned that trick last winter, and thought it was the crown of horsely knowledge. "What's the use o' talk in'?" said Tedda Gabler, scornfully. "What kin ye do?"
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