How erbout ther animile what yer sits on so
graceful?"
"Oh, I reckon he kin ride rings eround ther magpie hoss," said Bud, who
was a trifle nettled at the old man's jeering tone.
"Yer certain got a lot o' confidence in a dead one."
"I reckernize ther fact that he ain't none pretty, but handsome is as
handsome does. Hatrack is some shy on meat an' he's got a temper like a
disappointed woman, ter say nothin' o' havin' had ther botts, ringbone,
heaves, an' spavin', but he's a good nag, fer all thet, an' would be
good-lookin' ernough if his wool wasn't wore off in so many places."
"Haw, haw! He ain't what ye'd call a show animile."
"He ain't, but, say, stranger, he _kin_ run."
"What d'ye say ter a leetle brush betwixt Magpie an' yer Hatrack?"
"I'm ther gamest thing what ever yer see when it comes ter a hoss
race."
"What'll we race fer?"
"Nag an' nag. If yer beats me, yer takes Hatrack, an' if he gits away
with ther spotted pony, why, yer turns her over ter me. Is it a go?"
"If yer throw in a six-shooter fer odds.
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