"Let it go, Jim," pleaded Emma.
"I won't do it," Ike said—"I mean I know he don't want no farrer cow, he's got two now."
The Deacon was a little nettled. "I guess that's going to stand," he said sharply.
Jim swore a little but gave in, and came back with an access of ill humor on a division of the horses.
"But I've give you the four heavy horses to balance the four others and the two-year-old," said the Deacon.
"I'll be damned if I stand that," said Jim.
"I guess you'll have to," said the Deacon.
Emma pleaded, "Let it go, Jim, don't make a fuss."
Jim raged on, "I'll be cawn-demmed if I'll stand it. I don't—Ike don't want them spavined old crows; they're all ring-boned and got the heaves." His long repressed ill-nature broke out.
"Toh, toh!" said the Deacon, "Don't kick over the traces now. We'll fix it up some way."