"I ain't, neither. I jest knows a hoss when I sees one."
"Yer don't call thet a hoss yer a-straddlin', I hope?"
"I shore do. He ain't much fer ter gaze on admirin', I agree, but he's a good little cayuse. I reckon, now, yer some proud o' thet magpie hoss."
"I be. It kin outrun anythin' this side o' ther State o' Newbrasky."
"P'r'aps yer lookin' fer a race ter see what ther best we've got in camp kin do, no?"
"Thar ain't nary time what I won't run a race if I think thar's ary merit in my hossflesh. How erbout ther animile what yer sits on so graceful?"
"Oh, I reckon he kin ride rings eround ther magpie hoss," said Bud, who was a trifle nettled at the old man's jeering tone.
"Yer certain got a lot o' confidence in a dead one."
"I reckernize ther fact that he ain't none pretty, but handsome is as handsome does. Hatrack is some shy on meat an' he's got a temper like a disappointed woman, ter say nothin' o' havin' had ther botts, ringbone, heaves, an' spavin', but he's a good nag, fer all thet, an' would be good-lookin' ernough if his wool wasn't wore off in so many places."
"Haw, haw! He ain't what ye'd call a show animile."