“Wal, one night, what d'ye s'pose happened? The witch come an' rode
him away, an' when she got back, by an' by, an' took off his bridle, he never changed a hair, but stayed a hoss. Why? 'Cause the boy in him was all wore out an' dead as a door-nail. Fact is, hosses can stan' more'n men. An' the witch grew sick o' him, an' said she wanted a better hoss, an' give him a cut an' turned him loose in the sky. An' ev'ry night fer years he galloped over the house-tops as if he was tryin' to find suthin, an' when I went to bed I used to hear him whinny way up in the dark, an' it sounded suthin' like this:”
Here he whinnied like the witch's horse, and went on:
“Keep on the ground, Dave, an' mind yer elders, 'cause a boy that has his own head is apt to get it caught in the witch's bridle. Same way with a
