“Not workin’ exactly!” said Mistah Mule. “You might say I been balkin’.”
“What!” Ebenezer gasped. “Are you balky, sometimes?”
“I most gen’rally is,” said Mistah Mule. And then he gave his odd laugh, “Hee-haw! Hee-haw!”
“Let me give you a bit of advice,” said the old horse, looking very solemn. “Just forget all such tricks as balking and kicking. You’ve come to make your home among kind people. You’ll be well treated here. And you ought to behave politely. When Farmer Green asks you to work, I hope you’ll do your best.”
Mistah Mule threw back his head and showed his yellow teeth in a disagreeable grin.
“I has to have my fun,” he remarked. “Sometimes I has it one way; sometimes another.”
“You’ll have the best of times on this farm,” Ebenezer advised Mistah Mule, “if only you’ll be gentle and willing. I’ve lived here all my life; and I couldn’t ask for a better home. And I’ve always tried to behave myself.”
“Don’t you never kick?” Mistah Mule inquired.
“Oh, yes! When I’m in the pasture I sometimes kick.”
“I calls that kickin’ up,” Mistah Mule retorted with a snort. “What about kickin’ folks?”