him. Dere is a way o' swingin' yer quarters when de driver says,
'Yank her out, boys!' dat takes a year to learn. Onct yer git onter
it, youse kin yank a cable-car outer a manhole. I don't advertise
myself for no circus-horse, but I knew dat trick better than most,
an' dey was good to me in de stables, fer I saved time on de Belt
- an' time's what dey hunt in N' York."

"But the simple child o' nature -" the yellow horse began.

"Oh, go an' unscrew yer splints! You're talkin' through yer
bandages," said Muldoon, with a horse-laugh. "Dere ain't no
loose-box for de simple child o' nature on de Belt Line, wid de
Paris comin' in an' de Teutonic goin' out, an' de trucks an' de
coupe's sayin' things, an' de heavy freight movin' down fer de
Boston boat 'bout t'ree o'clock of an August afternoon, in de
middle of a hot wave when de fat Kanucks an' Western horses drops
dead on de block. De simple child o' nature had better chase
himself inter de water. Every man at de end of his lines is mad
or loaded or silly, an' de cop's madder an' loadeder an' sillier
than de rest. Dey all take it outer de horses. Dere's no wavin'
brooks ner ripplin' grass on de Belt Line. Run her out on de
cobbles wid de sparks flyin', an' stop when de cop slugs you on
de bone o' yer nose. Dat's N'York; see?

"I was always told s'ciety in Noo York was dreffle refined an'
high-toned," said Tuck. "We're lookin' to go there one o' these
days, Nip an' me."

"Oh, you won't see no Belt business where you'll go, miss. De man
dat wants you'll want bad, an' he'll summer you on Long Island er