hoss.

"Well, Lummox never changes ez much as a hair, ez he puts up his
eyeglasses. 'I'm not good at what's called "Pop'lar Art,"' sez he.
'Is it a chromo, or your own work?' sez he, critical like.

"'It's YOUR HOSS,' sez I.

"He looks at me a minit and then drors a paper from his pocket.
'This paper,' sez he in his quiet way, 'was drored up by you and is
a covenant to return to me a yaller hoss with golden mane and tail--
or a hundred and fifty dollars. Ez I don't see the hoss anywhere--
mebbe you've got the hundred and fifty dollars handy?' sez he.
'Suppose I hadn't the money?' sez I. 'I should be obliged,' sez he
in a kind o' pained Christian-martyr way, 'ter sell YOUR hoss for
two hundred, and send the money to my fr'en'.' We looked at each
other steddy for a minit and then I counts him out a hundred and
fifty. He took the money sad-like and then sez: 'Mr. Borem,' sez
he, 'this is a great morril lesson to us,' and went back to the
office. In the arternoon I called in an old hoss dealer that I
knew and shows him Pegasus.

"'He wants renewin',' sez he.

"'Wot's that?' sez I.

"'A few more bottles o' that British Blonde Hair Dye to set him up
ag'in. That's wot they allus do in the cirkis, whar he kem from.'

"Then I went back to the office and I took down my sign. 'What's