“Still, Mr Stump, I do not comprehend you. What makes this mustang a ma-a-r?”
“What makes her a maar? ’Case she ain’t a hoss; thet’s what make it, Miss Peintdexter.”
“Oh—now—I—I think I comprehend. But did you say you have heard of the animal—I mean since you left us?”
“Heern o’ her, seed her, an feeled her.”
“Indeed!”
“She air grupped.”
“Ah, caught! what capital news! I shall be so delighted to see the beautiful thing; and ride it too. I haven’t had a horse worth a piece of orange-peel since I’ve been in Texas. Papa has promised to purchase this one for me at any price. But who is the lucky individual who accomplished the capture?”
“Ye mean who grupped the maar?”
“Yes—yes—who?”
“Why, in coorse it wur a mowstanger.”