Peakslow grumblingly declined the test.
"He doesn't always come when I call him," said Jack. "I'll show you what I do then. Here, Lion!"
He took from his pocket an ear of corn he had picked by the way, placed one end of it between the dog's jaws, saying, "Bring Snowfoot, Lion! bring Snowfoot!" and let him through the bars.
Lion trotted into the pasture, trotted straight up to the right horse, coaxed and coquetted with him for a minute, and then trotted back. Snowfoot followed, leering and nipping, and trying to get the ear of corn.
Lion brought the ear to Jack, and Jack gave it to Snowfoot, taking him at the same time by the forelock.
"What do you think of that?" he said, looking round in triumph at Peakslow.
"I don't see as it's anything to make sich a fuss over," said Peakslow, looking angrily across at the spectators on the boundary fence, as they cheered the success of the man[oe]uvre. "It shows you've larnt your dog tricks,—nothin' more. 'Most any hoss would foller an ear of corn that way."
"Why didn't your hoss follow it?"
"The dog didn't go for my hoss."
"Why didn't he go for your horse, as soon as for mine?" urged Jack.