the steep ascent of his throat, and turn the corner so as to get out
at his mouth. Perhaps this was the cause of his speaking on all
occasions with great deliberation and slowness.

"Why, you see, sir," he replied, "the brown pony's got cut under the
fetlock of the right hind leg; and I 'ad 'im down to L'Esperance the
smith's, sir, to look at 'im, sir; and he says to me, says he 'That
don't look well, that 'oss don't,'--and he's a knowing feller, sir,
is L'Esperance though he _is_ an 'alf-breed--"

"Never mind what he said, Tom," interrupted the senior clerk; "is the
pony fit for use? that's the question."

"No, sir, 'e hain't."

"And the black mare, can he not have that?"

"No, sir; Mr. Grant is to ride 'er to-morrow."

"That's unfortunate," said the senior clerk.--"I fear, Charley, that
you'll need to ride behind Harry on his gray pony. It wouldn't
improve his speed, to be sure, having two on his back; but then he's
so like a pig in his movements at any rate, I don't think it would
spoil his pace much."

"Could he not try the new horse?" he continued, turning to the groom.

"The noo 'oss, sir! he might as well try to ride a mad buffalo bull,
sir. He's quite a young colt, sir, only 'alf broke--kicks like a
windmill, sir, and's got an 'ead like a steam-engine; 'e couldn't