"I'm sorry you were disappointed," said he.
"Is it about the 'oss you mean, sir?" inquired the shabby man,
touching his hat.
"Yes."
"Why, it do come a bit 'ard-like to ha' lost 'im, sir, arter waiting
my chance so long. But fifty guineas be a sight o' money to a chap
as be out of a job, though 'e's dirt-cheap at the price. There ain't
many 'osses like 'im, sir."
"That was why I should have bought him at ten times the price," said
Barnabas.
The man took off his hat, ran his stubby fingers through his
grizzled hair, and stared hard at Barnabas.
"Sir," said he, "even at that you couldn't ha' done wrong. He ain't
a kind 'oss--never 'aving been understood, d' ye see; but take my
word for it, 'e's a wonder, that 'oss!"
"You know him, perhaps?"
"Since 'e were foaled, sir. I was stud-groom; but folks think I'm
too old for the job, d' ye see, sir?"
"Do you think he 'd remember you?"
"Ay, that 'e would!"
"Do you suppose--look at him!--do you suppose you could hold him
quieter than those ostlers?"
"'Old 'im, sir!" exclaimed the man, throwing back his shoulders.
"'Old 'im--ah, that I could! Try me!"
"I will," said Barnabas.
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