eben holden-第23章

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in　after　supper　one　evening；　and　offered　a　rangy　brown　animal　at　a　low　figure。　We　looked　him　over；　tried　him　up　and　down　the　road；　and　then　David；　with　some　shrewd　suspicion；　as　I　divined　later；　said　I　could　do　as　I　pleased。　I　bought　the　horse　and　led　him　proudly　to　the　stable。　Next　morning　an　Irishman；　the　extra　man　for　the　haying；　came　in　with　a　worried　look　to　breakfast。

'That　new　horse　has　a　chittern'　kind　of　a　coff；'　he　said。

'A　cough？'　said　I。

''Tain't　jist　a　coff；　nayther；'　he　said；　'but　a　kind　of　toom！'

With　the　last　word　he　obligingly　imitated　the　sound　of　the　cough。　It　threw　me　into　perspiration。

'Sounds　bad；'　said　Uncle　Eb；　as　he　looked　at　me　and　snickered。

''Fraid　Bill　ain't　much　of　a　jockey；'　said　David；　smaling。

'Got　a　grand　appetite　…　that　hoss　has；'　said　Tip　Taylor。

After　breakfast　Uncle　Eb　and　I　hitched　him　to　the　light　buggy　and　touched　him　up　for　a　short　journey　down　the　road。　In　five　minutes　he　had　begun　to　heave　and　whistle。　I　felt　sure　one　could　have　heard　him　half　a　mile　away。　Uncle　Eb　stopped　him　and　began　to　laugh。

'A　whistler；'　said　he；　'sure's　yer　born。　He　ain't　wuth　a　bag　o'　beans。　But　don't　ye　never　let　on。　When　ye　git　licked　ye　musn't　never　fin'　fault。　If　anybody　asks　ye　'bout　him　tell　'em　he's　all　ye　expected。'

We　stood　waiting　a　moment　for　the　horse　to　recover　himself。　A　team　was　nearing　us。

'There's　Bob　Dean；'　Uncle　Eb　whispered。　'The　durn　scalawag！　Don't　ye　say　a　word　now。

'Good…mornin'！'　said　Dean；　smiling　as　he　pulled　up　beside　us。

'Nice　pleasant　mornin'！'　said　Uncle　Eb；　as　he　cast　a　glance　into　the　sky。

'What　ye　standin'　here　for？'　Dean　asked。

Uncle　Eb　expectorated　thoughtfullyy。

'Jest　a　1ookin'　at　the　scenery；'　said　he。　'Purty　country；　right　here！　AIwus　liked　it。'

'Nice　lookin'　hoss　ye　got　there；'　said　Dean。

'Grand　hoss！'　said　Uncle　Eb；　surveymg　him　proudly。　'Most　reemarkable　hoss。'

'Good　stepper；　too；'　said　Dean　soberly。

'Splendid！'　said　Uncle　Eb。　'Can　go　a　mile　without　ketchin'　his　breath。'

'Thet　so？'　said　Dean。

'Good　deal　like　Lucy　Purvis；'　Unde　Eb　added。　'She　can　say　the　hull　mul'plication　table　an'　only　breathe　once。　Ye　can　learn　sumthin'　from　a　hoss　like　thet。　He's　good　as　a　deestric'　school　…　thet　hoss　is。'

Yes；　sir；　thet　hoss　is　all　right；'　said　Dean；　as　he　drove　away。

'Righter'n　I　expected；'　Uncle　Eb　shouted；　and　then　he　covered　his　mouth；　shaking　with　suppressed　laughter。

'Skunk！'　he　said；　as　we　turned　the　animal　and　started　to　walk　him　home。　'Don't　min'　bein'　beat；　but　I　don't　like　t'　hev　a　man　rub　it　in　on　me。　I'll　git　even　with　him　mebbe。'

And　he　did。　It　came　about　in　this　way。　We　turned　our　new　purchase　into　the　pasture；　and　Uncle　Eb　and　I　drove　away　to　Potsdam　for　a　better　nag。　We　examined　all　the　horses　in　that　part　of　the　country。　At　last　we　chanced　upon　one　that　looked　like　the　whistler；　save　that　he　had　a　white　stocking　on　one　hind　foot

'Same　age；　too；'　said　Uncle　Eb；　as　he　looked　into　his　mouth。

'Can　pass　anything　on　the　road；'　said　his　owner。

'Can　he？'　said　Uncle　Eb；　who　had　no　taste　for　slow　going。　'Hitch　him　up　an'　le's　see　what　he　can　do。'

He　carried　us　faster　than　we　had　ever　ridden　before　at　a　trot；　and　coming　up　behind　another　team　the　man　pulled　out；　let　the　reins　loose　on　his　back；　and　whistled。　If　anyone　had　hit　him　with　a　log　chain　the　horse　could　not　have　moved　quicker。　He　took　us　by　the　other　team　like　a　flash；　on　the　dead　run　and　three　in　the　buggy。

'He'll　do　all　right；'　said　Uncle　Eb；　and　paid　for　the　horse。

It　was　long　after　dark　when　we　started　home；　leading　him　behind；　and　near　midnight　when　we　arrived。

In　the　morning　I　found　Uncle　Eb　in　the　stable　showing　him　to　the　other　help。　To　my　surprise　the　white　stocking　had　disappeared。

'Didn't　jes'　like　that　white　stockin'；'　he　said；　as　I　came　in。　'Wondered　how　he'd　look　without　it。'

They　all　agreed　this　horse　and　the　whistler　were　as　much　alike　as　two　peas　m　appearance。　Breakfast　over　Uncle　Eb　asked　the　Irishman　to　hitch　him　up。

'Come　Bill；'　said　he；　'le's　take　a　ride。　Dean'll　be　comm'　'long　bym　bye　on　his　way　t'　town　with　that　trotter　o'　his'n。　'Druther　like　to　meet　him。'

I　had　only　a　faint　idea　of　his　purpose。　He　let　the　horse　step　along　at　top　speed　going　up　the　road　and　when　we　turned　about　he　was　breathing　heavily。　We　jogged　him　back　down　the　road　a　mile　or　so；　and　when　I　saw　the　blazed　face　of　Dean's　mare；　in　the　distance；　we　pulled　up　and　shortly　stopped　him。　Dean　came　along　in　a　moment。

'Nice　mornin'！'　said　he。

'Grand！'　said　Uncle　Eb。

'Lookin'　at　the　lan'scape　ag'in？'

'Yes；　I've　jes'　begun　t'　see　what　a　putty　country　this　is；'　said　Uncle　Eb。

'How's　the　boss？'

'Splendid！　Gives　ye　time　t'　think　an'　see　what　yer　passin'。　Like　t'　set　'n　think　once　in　a　while。　We　don't　do　enough　thinkin'　here　in　this　part　o'　the　country。'

'Yd　orter　buy　this　mare　an　leam　how　t'　ride　fast；'　said　Dean。

'Thet　one；'　said　Uncle　Eb；　sqIii：fltig　at　the　mare；　'why　she　can't　go　fast　'nough。'

'She　can't；　hey？'　said　Dean；　bridling　with　injured　pride。　'I　don't　think　there's　anything　in　this　town　can　head　her。'

'Thunder！'　said　Uncle　Eb；　'I　can　go　by　her　with　this　ol'　plug　easy　'twxt　here　an'　our　gate。　Ye　didn't　know　what　ye　was　sellin'。'

'If　ye　pass　her　once　I'll　give　her　to　ye；'　said　he。

'Mean　it？'　said　Uncle　Eb。

'Sartin；'　said　he；　a　little　redder　in　the　face。

'An'　if　I　don't　I'll　give　ye　the　whistler；'　said　Uncle　Eb　as　he　turned　about。

The　mare　went　away；　under　the　whip；　before　we　had　fairly　started。　She　was　going　a　fifty　shot　but　in　a　moment　we　were　lapping　upon　her　hind　wheel。　Dean　threw　a　startled　glance　over　his　shoulder。　Then　he　shouted　to　the　mare。　She　quickened　her　pace　a　little　but　we　kept　our　position。　Uncle　Eb　was　leaning　over　the　dasher　his　white　locks　flying。　He　had　something　up　his　sleeve；　as　they　say；　and　was　not　yet　ready　to　use　it。　Then　Dean　began　to　shear　over　to　cut　us　off…　a　nasty　trick　of　the　low　horseman。　I　saw　Uncle　Eb　giance　at　the　ditch　ahead。　I　knew　what　was　coining　and　took　a　firm　hold　of　the　seat。　The　ditch　was　a　bit　rough；　but　Uncle　Eb　had　no　lack　of　courage。　He　turned　the　horse's　head；　let　up　on　the　reins　and　whistled。　I　have　never　felt　such　a　thrill　as　then。　Our　horse　leaped　into　the　deep　grass　running　like　a　wild　deer。

'Hi　there！　hi　there！'　Uncle　Eb　shouted；　bouncing　in　his　seat；　as　we　went　over　stones　and　hummocks　going　like　the　wind。

'Go；　ye　brown　devil！'　he　yelled；　his　hat　flying　off　as　he　shook　the　reins。

The　mare　lost　her　stride；　we　flashed　by　and　came　up　into　the　road。　Looking　back　I　saw　her　jumping　up　and　down　a　long　way　behind　us　and　Dean　whipping　her。　Uncle　Eb；　his　hands　over　the　dasher；　had　pulled　down　to　a　trot　Ahead　of　us　we　could　see　our　folks　…　men　and　women　…　at　the　gate　looking　down　the　road　at　us　waving　hats　and　handkerchieis。　They　had　heard　the　noise　of　the　battle。　Uncle　Eb　let　up　on　the　reins　and　looked　back　snorting　with　amusement。　In　a　moment　we　pulled　up　at　our　gate。　Dean　came　along　slowly。

'Thet's　a　putty　good　mare；'　said　Uncle　Eb。

'Yer　welcome　to　her；'　said　Dean　sullenly。

'Wouldn't　hev　her；'　said　Uncle　Eb。

'Why　not？'　said　the　trader　a　look　of　relief　coming　over　his　face。

'Can't　go　fast　enough　for　my　use；'　Uncle　Eb　answered。　'Ye　can　jest　hitch　her　in　here　awhile　an'　the　first　day　ye　come　over　with　a　hundred　dollars　ye　can　hev　her　'n　the　whistler；　both　on　'em。　Thet　whistler's　a　grand　hoss！　Can　hold　his　breath　longer'n　any　hoss　I　ever　knew！'

The　sum　named　was　that　we　had　paid　him　for　the　highiy　accomplished　animal。　Dean　had　the　manhood　to　pay　up　then　and　there　and　said　he　would　send　for　the　other　horse；　which　he　never　did。

'Guess　he　won't　bother　us　any　more　when　we　stop　t'　look　at　the　scenery；'　said　Uncle　Eb；　laughing　as　Dean　drove　away。　'Kind　o'　resky　business　buyin'　hosses；'　he　added。　'Got　t'　jedge　the　owner　as　well　as　the　hoss。　If　there's　anything　the　matter　with　his　conscience　it'll　come　out　in　the　hoss　somewhere　every　time。　Never　knew　a　mean　man　t'　own　a　good　hoss。　Remember；　boy；　's　a　lame　soul　thet　drives　a　limpin'　hoss。'

'No　use　talkin'；　Bill　ain'　no　jedge　uv　a　hoss'　said　David　Brower。　'He'll　hev　t'　hev　an　education　er　he'll　git　t'　the　poorhouse　someday　sartin。'

'Wall　he's　a　good　jedge　o'　gals　anyway；'　said　Uncle　Eb。

As　for　myself　I　was　now　hopelessly　confirmed　in　my　dislike　of　farming　and　I　never　traded　horses　again。

Chapter　23

Late　in　August　Uncle　Eb　and　I　took　our　Black　Hawk　stallion　to　the　fair　in　HilIsborough　and　showed　him　for　a　prize。　He　was　fit　for　the　eye　of　a　king　when　we　had　finished　grooming　him；　that　morning；　and　led　him　out；　rearing　in　play；　his　eyes　flashing　from　under　his　broad　plume；　so　that　all　might　have　a　last　look　at　him。　His　arched　neck　and　slim　barrel　glowed　like　satin　as　the　sunlight　fell　upon　him。　His　black　mane　flew；　he　shook　the　ground　with　his　hoofs　playing　at　the　halter's　end。　He　hated　a　harness　and　once　in　it　lost　half　his　conceit。　But　he　was　vainest　of　all　things　in　Faraway　when　we　drove　off　with　him　that　morning。

All　roads　led　to　HilIsborough　fair　time。　Up　and　down　the　long　hills　we　went　on　a　stiff　jog　passing　lumber　wagons　with　generations　enough　in　them　to　make　a　respectable　genealogy；　the　old　people　in　chairs；　light　wagons　that　carried　young　men　and　their　sweethearts；　baclswoodsmen　coming　out　in　ancient　vehicles　upon　reeling；　creaking　wheels　to　get　food　for　a　year's　reflection　…　all　thickening　the　haze　of　the　late　summer　with　the　dust　of　the　roads。　And　Hillsborough　itself　was　black　with　people。　The　shouts　of　excited　men；　the　neighing　of　horses；　the　bellowing　of　cattle；　the　wailing　of　infants；　the　howling　of　vendors；　the　pressing　crowd；　had　begun　to　sow　the　seed　of　misery　in　the　minds　of　those　accustomed　only　to　the　peaceflil　quietude　of　the　farm。　The　staring　eye；　the　palpitating　heart；　the　aching　head；　were　successive　stages　in　the　doom　of　many。　The　fair　had　its　floral　hall　carpeted　with　sawdust　and　redolent　of　cedar；　its　dairy　house；　its　mechanics'　hall　sacred　to　fiuming　implements；　its　long　sheds　ftill　of　sheep　and　cattle；　its　dining…hall；　its　temporary　booths　of　rough　lumber；　its　half…mile　track　and　grandstand。　Here　voices　of　beast　and　vendor　mingied　in　a　chorus　of　cupidity　and　distress。　In　Floral　Hall　Sol　Rollin　was　on　exhibition。　He　gave　me　a　cold　nod；　his　lips　set　for　a　tune　as　yet　inaudible。　He　was　surveying　sundry　examples　of　rustic　art　that　hung　on　the　circular　railing　of　the　gallery　and　tryingto　preserve　a　calm　breast。　He　was　looking　at　Susan　Baker's　painted　cow　that　hung　near　us。

'Very　descriptive；'　he　said　when　I　pressed　him　for　his　notion　of　it。　'Rod　Baker's　sister　Susan　made　thet　cow。　Gits　tew　dollars　an'　fifty　cents　every　fair　time　…　wish　I　was　dewin　's　well。'

'That's　one　of　the　most　profitable　cows　in　this　country；'　I　said。

'Looks　a　good　deal　like　a　new　breed。'

'Yes；'　he　answered　soberly；　then　he　set　his　lips；　threw　a　sweeping　glance　into　the　gallery；　and　passed　on。

Susan　Baker's　cow　was　one　of　the　permanent　features　of　the　county　fair；　and　was　indeed　a　curiosity　not　less　remarkable　than　the　sacred　ox　of　Mr　Bamum。

Here　also　I　met　a　group　of　the　pretty　girls　who　had　been　my　schoolmates。　They　surrounded　me；　chattering　like　magpies。

'There's　going　to　be　a　dance　at　our　house　tonight；'　said　one　of　them；　'and　you　must　come。'

'I