He leaned against the shafts as if
he were tired.
"There, Marm," said the owner, eying my face as an amused expression
stole over it; "ef you don't care for
style, ef ye want a good, steddy
critter, and a critter that can
go, and a critter that
any lady can
drive,
there's the critter for ye!"
I did buy at last, for life had become a burden. An
interestedneighbor (who really pitied me?) induced me to buy a pretty little black
horse. I named him "O.K."
After a week I changed to "N.G."
After he had run away, and no one would buy him, "D.B."
At last I succeeded in exchanging this shying and dangerous creature for
a melancholy, overworked mare at a livery stable. I hear that "D.B." has
since killed two
I-talians by throwing them out when not sufficiently
inebriated to fall against rocks with safety.
And my latest venture is a
backer.
Horses have just as many disagreeable traits, just as much individuality
in their badness, as human beings. Under kind treatment, daily petting,
and generous feeding, "Dolly" is too frisky and headstrong for a lady to
drive.
"Sell that treacherous beast at once or you will be killed," writes an
anxious friend who had a slight acquaintance with her moods.
I want now to find an equine reliance whose motto is "Nulla vestigia
retrorsum," or "No steps backward."
I have pasted Mr. Hale's famous motto, "Look forward and not back," over
her stall--but with no effect.
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