"You, Shanghai!"
"Yes, suh! Comin' up!"
"Find that little rascal Mose and tell him I want to see him."
"Yes, suh."
"And, Shanghai?"
"Yes, suh."
"I believe I've found the way to rise up!"
"Good news!" ejaculated the startled negro, backing away. But to himself the hostler said: "Rise up? Sweet lan' o' libuhty! I wondeh whut bitin' the ole man now?"
It was a small and very sleepy exercise boy whom Smiley Johnson tossed into the saddle at four o'clock on Saturday morning: a boy whose teeth were chattering, for he was cold.
"Canter him the usual distance, Dutchy," said the owner. "Then set him down, but not for more than half a mile. Understand?"