"Oh, dooce take me," he exclaimed in a faint voice, clapping a hand
to his side, "I'll be shot if I saw anything neater, no, not even at
Sadler's Wells! Captain Slingsby of the Guards in his famous double
somersault! Oh, damme, Sling! I'd give a hundred guineas to see you
do it again--I would, dooce take me!"
But Captain Slingsby continued to shake his fist at the great, black
horse, and to swear with unabated fervor.
"You black devil!" he exclaimed, "you four-legged imp of Satan! So,
you're up to your tricks again, are you? Well, this is the last
chance you shall have to break my neck, b'gad! I'm done with you
for a--"
Here the Captain became extremely fluent, and redder of face than
ever, as he poured forth a minute description of the animal; he
cursed him from muzzle to crupper and back again; he damned his eyes,
he damned his legs, individually and collectively, and reviled him,
through sire and dam, back to the Flood.
Meanwhile Barnabas turned from raging Two-legs to superbly wrathful
Four-legs; viewed him from sweeping tail to lofty crest; observed
his rolling eye and quivering nostril; took careful heed of his
broad chest, slender legs, and powerful, sloping haunches with keen,
appraising eyes, that were the eyes of knowledge and immediate desire.
Pages:
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259