“But Tom would n't mind him, for he was going on reciting the animal's perfections, and telling him how he was bred out of Kick the Moon, by Moll Flanders, and that Lord Dunraile himself only parted with him because he did n't think him showy enough for a charger. 'Though, to be sure,' said Tom, 'he's greatly improved since that. Will you try him in the school, Mr. Dempsey?' said he; 'not but I tell you that you 'll find him a little mettlesome or so there; take him on the grass, and he's gentleness itself,—he's a kid, that's what he is.'
“'And his price?' said my grandfather.
“Dycer whispered something in his ear.
“'Blood alive!' said my grandfather.
“'Devil a farthing less. Do you think you 're to get beauty and action, ay, and gentle temper, for nothing?'
“My dear, the last words, 'gentle temper,' wasn't well out of his mouth when 'the kid' put his two hind-legs into the little pulpit where the auctioneer was sitting, and sent him flying through the window behind him into the stall.
“'That comes of tickling him,' said Tom; 'them blackguards never will let a horse alone.'
“'I hope you don't let any of them go out to the reviews in the Park, for I declare to Heaven, if I was on his back then, Dodd and Dempsey would be D. D. sure enough.'
“'With a large snaffle, and the saddle well back,' says Tom, 'he's a lamb.'
“'God grant it,' says my grandfather; 'send him over to me to-morrow, about eleven.' He gave a check for the money,—we never heard how much it was,—and away he went.