I didn't know it was a joke; I thought it was the mare's name, and I heard him mutter "Damn!"
"This is the way," he said angrily. We seemed to travel through an interminable cesspool, but at last reached the open, and coming to another gate, he extended his arms on it, after the manner of a squire, and said,—
"There, there's Naples. Isn't she lovely?"
"Where?" I asked.
"There; and a prettier mare you never saw. Look at her!"
"She's a beauty—a real beauty!" I exclaimed.
He breathed rather short, and I felt easy. His manner, especially the distending of his cheeks, showed me that he was about to bring forth something—a pun of some sort.
"Do you know," he asked, with another turn of his eyes, "why I call her Naples?"
"No, I haven't the faintest idea. Naples? no."
"Well," he said, "I've puzzled a good many. I may say nobody has ever guessed it. I call that mare Naples because she's such a beautiful bay."