Presently there was a clattering of hoofs behind him, and Ribsy came galloping along the road, with nothing on him but his collar. He was holding his big head high in the air, like a giraffe, and gazing proudly about him as he ran. He stopped short when he saw the little boy, and, giving a triumphant whistle, said cheerfully, "How are you again?"
It seemed rather strange to be spoken to by a cab-horse, but Davy answered that he was feeling quite well.
"So am I," said Ribsy. "The fact is, that when it comes to beating a horse about the head with a three-legged stool, if that horse is going to leave at all, it's time he was off."
"I should think it was," said Davy, earnestly.
"You'll observe, of course, that I've kept on my shoes and my collar," said Ribsy. "It isn't genteel to go barefoot, and nothing makes a fellow look so untidy as going about without a collar. The truth is," he continued, sitting down in the road on his hind legs,—"the truth is, I'm not an ordinary horse, by any means. I have a history, and I've arranged it in a popular form, in six canters,—I mean cantos," he added, hastily correcting himself.
"I'd like to hear it, if you please," said Davy, politely.
"Well, I'm a little hoarse,"—began Ribsy.
"I think you're a very big horse," said Davy, in great surprise.
"I'm referring to my voice," said Ribsy, haughtily. "Be good enough not to interrupt me again;" and, giving two or three preliminary whistles to clear his throat, he began:—
| It's very confining, this living in stables, And passing one's time among wagons and carts; I much prefer dining at gentlemen's tables, And living on turkeys and cranberry tarts. I find with surprise that I'm constantly sneezing; I'm stiff in the legs, and I'm often for sale; And the blue-bottle flies, with their tiresome teasing, Are quite out of reach of my weary old tail. |