352 GETTING EVEN. 



withstanding all of his good qualities, had a fault, and 

 a very bad one. He was a kicker, and one of the 

 worst you ever put an eye on. The only time he ever 

 bothered me (I do not know what he did with other 

 people, neither did I inquire, except in one case, of 

 which I will relate later,) was in the morning. Then if 

 you went near him, after he had been fed, it looked as 

 though his feet were in the air all of the time. He 

 was so bad that I had to arrange matters so that I 

 could drop the harness on him from the loft, and the 

 strangest part of it all was, that as soon as he felt the 

 straps on his back he became as gentle as a lamb — 

 or at least he did for me. 



As soon as I learned the ways of this horse, I 

 made up my mind that he was the proper subject for 

 my friend who gave me the "fitty" one. About a 

 week after the kicker came to me, I was driving the 

 coach over a hill when I saw my dear friend on the 

 top of another one. He appeared to have a right 

 shifty kind of a horse, but one that did not have as 

 much style as the off one in my pair. As the teams 

 approached each other I kept my eye on the horse 

 coming down the road and saw that he put every foot 

 in its place, and acted as if there was nothing the 

 matter with him. We met in the middle of a little 

 valley, and as there were no passengers on board, I 

 stopped and stumped him for a trade. He knew that 

 he owed me one, so I introduced the business by ask- 

 ing him how he would trade for my nigh horse. 



"I would rather have the off one," said he. 



"Would you?" says I. 



"Yes," said he. "I'll trade you even for him." 



