"and a streak along the back of mustang. This shall be called Nymph,
even if she has no place in the books. She'll be my first
unimpeachable perfect saddle horse--I know it--the kind I like--my
dream come true at last."

"A hoss has four legs, one on each corner," Mr. Hennessy uttered
profoundly.

"And from five to seven gaits," Graham took up lightly,

"And yet I don't care for those many-gaited Kentuckians," Paula said
quickly, "--except for park work. But for California, rough roads,
mountain trails, and all the rest, give me the fast walk, the fox
trot, the long trot that covers the ground, and the not too-long,
ground-covering gallop. Of course, the close-coupled, easy canter; but
I scarcely call that a gait--it's no more than the long lope reduced
to the adjustment of wind or rough ground."

"She's a beauty," Dick admired, his eyes warm in contemplation of the
saucy chestnut filly, who was daringly close and alertly sniffing of
the subdued Fop's tremulous and nostril-dilated muzzle.

"I prefer my own horses to be near thoroughbred rather than all
thoroughbred," Paula proclaimed. "The running horse has its place on
the track, but it's too specialized for mere human use."

"Nicely coupled," Mr. Hennessy said, indicating the Nymph. "Short
enough for good running and long enough for the long trot. I'll admit
I didn't have any faith in the combination; but you've got a grand
animal out of it just the same."