"I rubbers hard to get a look at a hoss Pappy boosts like that, 'n' I nearly croaks when they lead Hamilton into the ring. The colt's a dink, right. He's stiff as a poker behind, but he's still got that game-cock look to his eye.
"'Na-ow, boys!' sings out Pappy, 'there's the biggest little hoss ever you saw! Don't look at him—any of you fellahs that wants a yellah dawg to win a cheap race with! He ain't in that class. Step forwahd, you breeders, an' grasp a golden opportunity! Send the best brood mares you've got to this little hoss … he's a giant! You hear me—a giant! Ed Tumble, I'm talkin' to you! I'm talkin' to you, Bill Masters—an' Harry Scott there … an' Judge Dillon … an' all you big breeders! You've read what this little hoss done in the newspapers. You can see his breedin' in your catalogues. You can look him over as he stands there! But best of all—listen to the old man! when he tells you he never held a hammer over a better one in fifty years. Na-ow, boys! I'm goin' to sell him for the high dollah, an' the man who gets him at any price … you hear me—at any price!… is goin' to have the laugh on the rest of you fellahs! Aw-l-l right—what do I hear?'
"'Five hundred!' says some guy.
"'Why, Frank, five hundred won't buy a hair out of his tail … what do I hear?' says Pappy.
"'Two thousand!' yells somebody.
"'Na-ow listen, Tom, if you want the little hoss, cut out this triflin' an' bid for him,' says Pappy. 'What do I hear?'
"'Five thousand!' some guy hollers.
"'That's just a nice little start … what do I hear?' says Pappy, 'n' I goes into a trance.
"I don't come to till I hears Pappy sing out:
"'So-o-ld to you for sixteen thousand dollahs, Mr. Humphrey, an' you never bought a cheaper one!'