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Updated: July 14, 2025
"Well, I must say, it's a pretty how-de-do, That horse'll make straight back for the farm; we won't have any delivery horse to-morrow. Sue, you get out; I'll go down the road a piece and see if I can head him off." "He turned the other way," said Merton. "Well, he's bound to head around for the farm. I'll go up the road and you hurry out the way he went.
I'm about the lightest of us, I think." "So ye are an' the horse'll take ye like a bird," said Murty. "Don't shpare him, Mr. Wally, if ye think ye can do any good. He's over there under the big wattle." "Right-o!" said Wally. "Tell Mr. Jim, will you, Murty?" He turned and ran down the hill with long strides.
"Even the jockeys spoil their mounts," Gaynor continued in a monotone; "the horse'll gallop better for women any time they treat thim gentler, that's why." "Most interesting," hazarded Mortimer, feeling some acknowledgment of Mike's information was due.
"Dave, pull this up, will you?" So little David ran and gave a lift on the other side of the big rocking chair, to haul it into place. "We'll run into somethin' an' th' horse'll shy, and that'll make the old stage-coach roll down hill. Gee-whickets!" he brought up, in huge delight. "I shan't let you play it at all," said Polly, from the pantry, "if you say such words, Joel.
"Get off yo' hoss, son," said the Hon. Sam kindly, "and get down on yo' knees at the feet of them steps. This fair young Queen is a-goin' to put this chaplet on your shinin' brow. That horse'll stand." The Knight of the Cumberland, after a moment's hesitation, threw his leg over the saddle and came to the steps with a slouching gait and looking about him right and left.
"Yes; I fancy Diablo will like this better. Touchy brutes, these race horses; got to humor 'em. Come on over to the stalls the horse'll stand." Diablo was being led around in a small circle by his boy.
and the baritones, flinging themselves around with the looseness of Christy's Minstrels, in a "break down," would reply: "Don't tell me! Don't tell me!" Then the tenors would resume: "Says I, Ole man, your horse'll die." Then the baritones, with an air of exaggerated interest; "A-ha-a-a, Billy Patterson!" Tenors: "For. It he dies, I'll tan his skin; An' if he lives I'll ride him agin,"
I bean't content to lose the old horse as I've shod mayhap for twenty years no, not if I bean't his master!" "There's no help for it, though!" "None as I knows on. I'd be main glad to hear any news on the subjec' as you can supply! No, I ain't content; I'm sorry!" "Why don't the parsons say the old horse'll rise again?" "'Cause the parsons knows nought about it. How should they?"
"Is it a stream, Charlie?" Bill's question seemed to irritate his brother. "Stream? Damn it, it's mire. His horse'll throw himself. Who ?" He leaned forward in the saddle searching the distance for the identity of the oncoming horseman. His horse shot forward, and Bill's was hard put to it to keep pace. "Can't we shout a warning?" cried Bill, caught in his brother's anxious excitement.
She felt wild and happy, and it came to her that a man who could behave like this when he had made up his mind, might be allowed a long time in coming to it. But she tried reproving him. "O Jerry, the horse'll freeze to death!" "No, he won't. He's all blanketed. Besides, little Jim Pillsbury's there tendin' the fire for the sociable, an' he'll find him.
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