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Updated: June 16, 2025
He entered softly, and the big barn, that joined the stable, began to ring with noise. He heard Tunk shouting "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" at the top of his voice. Peering through, he could see the able horseman leaning back upon a pair of reins tied to a beam in front of him. His cry and attitude were like those of a jockey driving a hard race. He saw Trove, and began to slow up.
"I'll take these to the barn," said he; "they'd have a fit if they was t' see 'em. What be they?" "I do not know what they are," said Trove. "Wal!" said Tunk. "They're queer folks them Frenchmen. This looks like an iron bar broke in two in the middle." He got his lantern, picked up the bottle, the sling-shot, and the iron, and went away to the barn.
"Kicked ag'in," said Tunk, sadly. "Heavens! I've had my share o' bangin'. Can't conquer a skittish hoss without sufferin' some not allwus. Now, here's a boss," he added, as they walked to a stall. "He ain't much t' look at, but " He paused a moment as he neared the horse a white and ancient palfrey. He stood thoughtfully on "cocked ankles," every leg in a bandage, tail and mane braided,
He hurried through the dark parlour, feeling his way around a clump of chairs and stumbling over a sofa. The two old maids were at the kitchen door, both dressed, one holding a lighted candle. Tunk Hosely stood by the door, buttoning suspenders with one hand and holding a musket in the other. They were shivering and pale. The room was now cold. "Hear that!" Tunk whispered, turning to the teacher.
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