"Don't talk about making bold, John Tucker. It's I who have been making bold. I am scared out of my wits, you know I am, but he is such a beauty! Let's sit down, John Tucker dear, and I'll tell you all about it."
Perched sidewise on the arm of a chair, her hands clasped on her knee, her chin tilted up, Kitty was so enchanting an object that I could not wonder at John Tucker's fatuous expression. Probably if she had told him of the purchase of a giraffe or an elephant, he would have looked no less fatuous. As it was——
"You see, John," Kitty began slowly, taking out a hatpin and jabbing it into the arm of the chair to punctuate her remarks, "I took Mr. Chanter to see a poor old Thing who is sick, and in trouble besides; sad trouble, I'm afraid. Her son hasn't been doing well lately; but—well—he is a good son to her, only he has been unfortunate. He deals in horses——"
John Tucker looked up. "What was the name, did you say, Miss?"
"I didn't say, John Tucker dear, but the name is Boody; Mrs. L. M. Boody. Her son is L. M., too. I don't know——"
"Ellum Boody: Slippery Ellum!" murmured John Tucker. "Scuse me, Miss Kitty. Luke his name is, but he's known like I say. Scuse me, Miss Kitty!"
"Oh, I hope he isn't slippery, John Tucker, dear. Let me tell you! I was sitting out in Mr. Chanter's buggy, when he—Boody, I mean—drove into the yard with this horse. His name is Hero, John; good name, don't you think? I was taken with him at once; such a beautiful color, and holds his head so well! The man touched his hat, and was very civil; I said how handsome the horse was, and he was most enthusiastic. Said he had never had such a fine horse in his stable, and he wouldn't part with him for a gold mine if things weren't just as they were. So I asked was he thinking of selling him, because you know we decided we had to have one, John; and he said yes, if the right party could be found. 'For sell that hoss to the wrong party is what I couldn't do, not if he was the Angel Gable!' he said. Then I asked about him, you know; six years old, sound and kind, a lady's horse every inch of him, Boody said, and wouldn't I like to take a turn behind him while I waited. So I did, and he is a good roadster, John; eight or ten miles an hour, I should think; Boody says twelve, but I'm not sure——" I glanced at John Tucker and saw that he was not sure. "Good action! lifts his feet a little high, but Boody says that is his spirit; and as to his disposition, John, just think what he did one day! Some women hired him, Boody says, and put him in their own wagon, and forgot to fasten the breeching. They drove him seven miles over that rough road by Gambrel Hill, all ups and downs, you know, and he never did a thing! What do you think of that, John Tucker?"
"Sounds as if he might be some hoss!" said John Tucker cautiously. "You've took him on trial, you say, Miss Kitty?"
"Yes, John, a week. I thought in that time—why, here he is now, this very minute!"
A man was driving into the yard in a light trotting sulky. We all hastened out into the yard.