rise in their might, the day o' the Oppressor is ended."

There was a pause, till Rick said, with a little grunt:

"Ef you put it that way, every one of us has riz in his might, 'cep'
Marcus, mebbe. Marky, 'j ever rise in yer might?"

"Nope," said Marcus Aurelius Antoninus, thoughtfully quidding over
a mouthful of grass. "I seen a heap o' fools try, though."

"You admit that you riz?" said the Kansas horse, excitedly. "Then
why - why in Kansas did you ever go under again?"

"Horse can't walk on his hind legs all the time," said the Deacon.

"Not when he's jerked over on his back 'fore he knows what fetched
him. We've all done it, Boney," said Rick. "Nip an' Tuck they
tried it, spite o' what the Deacon told 'em; an' the Deacon he tried
it, spite o' what me an' Rod told him; an' me an' Rod tried it,
spite o' what Grandee told us; an' I guess Grandee he tried it, spite
o' what his dam told him. It's the same old circus from generation
to generation. 'Colt can't see why he's called on to back. Same
old rearm' on end - straight up. Same old feelin' that you've bested
'em this time. Same old little yank at your mouth when you're up
good an' tall. Same old Pegasus-act, wonderin' where you'll 'light.
Same old wop when you hit the dirt with your head where your tail
should be, and your in'ards shook up like a bran-mash. Same old
voice in your ear: 'Waal, ye little fool, an' what did you reckon
to make by that?' We're through with risin in our might on this
farm. We go to pole er single, accordin' ez we're hitched."