"Oh, I am tired of sitting and pulling and hauling on one rein to keep him out of the side of the ditch; if it were not for that, the beast should never go out of my hand. No, had it been only that he made a few splinters in the crib."
The captain assumed a thoughtful expression; he leaned against the back of the sofa, and gave two or three deep, strong pulls on his pipe.
"But my Brunen is nothing at all to talk about—a little gnawing only—with the one eye-tooth."
"Nay, my bay also gives way only on one side of the road."
Again two or three sounding puffs. The captain gave his wig a poke.
"If there is any one who could cure him of that, it is certainly I."
Dense smoke poured out of his pipe.
Over in his corner of the sofa the doctor began to clean his out.
"Besides, my Brunen is a remarkably kind animal—thunders a little on the crib down in the stall—a horse can hardly have less of a fault, and then so thoroughly easy on the rein—knows if one only touches it—so extremely sensitive in his mouth—a regular beauty to drive on the country road."