FOR SALE— A THOROUGHBRED NAG. 107 



' Umph !' said Joe to me, ' she's out six, if she's a day.' 



' He,' said father, pointing to the foal, who was staring and 



sniffing at us, ' is a son of Cavaher, Joe.' 



' Umph !' said Joe again to me, in an undertone, ' .y//^ ain't no 



good ; an', as the sayin' is, if ye want to know wot 'e '11 be, arx 



his dam, so 'e ain't no good, nuther.' 



II. 



One day a clever talkative neighbour passed along with my 

 father. 



' Ha,' said he, ' a new horse ?' stopping and leaning on the 

 paddock-fence ; ' a brood-mare, eh ?' 



'Ye-es,' said my father, getting through the fence, followed 

 by his friend ; ' isn't she a beauty ?' 



' She looks very handsome.' 



Then the gentleman rushed at her, hooting and rattling his 

 stick in his hat to make her show off her paces. Away she 

 went at a tremendous trot round the field, with her tail cocked 

 high and her foal galloping by her side. 



'She steps well,' said he, coming back to my father. 'A 

 little wide behind; but all the better for that — shows speed. 

 That's a very pretty creature of a foal, though, as swift and grace- 

 ful as a fawn. Where did you pick 'em up ?' 



Then my father related all about the purchase, I suppose ; 

 for I did not hear, being outside the fence, and father not having 

 so loud a tongue as his friend. 



' O, / know her,' cried his friend ; ' she used to belong to 

 Captain Pumpkin.' 



Father nodded. 



' By all accounts, then,' said his friend, shaking his head, 

 ' that / have heard — mind you, that / have heard, for I don't 

 swear to their absolute truth — sJies a horrid vixen P 



My curiosity had by this time carried me through the fence. 



' How can they tell ?' asked my father, with the least touch 

 of impatience in his voice. 



The fact is, from various dark hints that had been hovering 

 around him for some days, the suspicion was beginning closely 

 to press him that he had not made so keen, so prudent a pur- 

 chase after all. 



* How can they tell, when she's never been tried ?' 



' Tried, Mr. Turnham ? Lor' bless you ! she's been tried — if 



