“Just bring out your own horse, and let me see what sort of a pair they'd make.”
Joseph laughed rather bitterly as he went to fetch Diamond.
When the two were placed side by side, Mr. Raymond could hardly keep his countenance, but from a mingling of feelings. Beside the great, red, round barrel, Ruby, all body and no legs, Diamond looked like a clothes-horse with a skin thrown over it. There was hardly a spot of him where you could not descry some sign of a bone underneath. Gaunt and grim and weary he stood, kissing his master, and heeding no one else.
“You haven't been using him well,” said Mr. Raymond.
“I must say,” returned Joseph, throwing an arm round his horse's neck, “that the remark had better have been spared, sir. The horse is worth three of the other now.”
“I don't think so. I think they make a very nice pair. If the one's too fat, the other's too lean—so that's all right. And if you won't buy my Ruby, I must buy your Diamond.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Joseph, in a tone implying anything but thanks.
“You don't seem to like the proposal,” said Mr. Raymond.
“I don't,” returned Joseph. “I wouldn't part with my old Diamond for his skin as full of nuggets as it is of bones.”
“Who said anything about parting with him?”