57 



about frightened to show their legs, or there must be 

 something wrong with the fishermen or their nets. 

 Whatever it may be, those brought to the market are 

 seldom inviting, and if partaken of are found to be 

 very indigestible. 



Once in my life, and once only, I purchased a 

 yearling without seeing the sire. I kept him, as I 

 always do the one or two I can aiford, until he was 

 turned of three years old before either breaking or 

 shoeing. The brute's legs notwithstanding began to 

 crook and bung before three months had passed, 

 though he never had more than ten minutes trot in 

 the day, and that very gently. A ploughboy, whose 

 eye once caught the bulbous bosses around his 

 pasterns, cried out to me, 



" Sir, your horse has been galloping over my 

 grounds and purloining the onions." 



" Gallop," I said in my innocence, " he is only 

 four years old, and has never had a gallop in his life." 



" No matter o'that," returned the boy, " his father 

 did then, and he has stolen them from him." 



This made me seek a sight of his sire's legs. " Sire 

 Harkaway." It was a sight. They strongly resembled 

 the legs of the Louis Quinze chairs, richly adorned 

 with holly stick knobs, being not only curved to that 

 fashion, but having lumps and bumps and bony 



