"Horses native to this land and therefore the best," said Old Master.
"Got one you can't manage? If you have, I'll make him get down on his knees and beg for mercy."
Old Master looked at Bob and laughed. "We've got a great black horse we call Zeb, and our sick quarter is sometimes filled with his victims. Dan here, can break almost any piece of horse-flesh, but he's afraid of Zeb. The negroes don't call him Zeb—they call him the Devil, sir."
"And I would advise you not to have anything to do with him, Uncle Clem," said Young Master. "He cut a great gash on Andrew's head, broke Tony's arm not long ago, and laid Dan up for a week. We keep him merely for show, for he is the most graceful thing you ever saw."
"And I will drive him to town this morning," Mr. Clem declared. And getting up, he added: "Come, show him to me?"
We could but laugh at the self-confidence shown by this rugged man from the West; we felt that he had brought with him the breezy brag so characteristic of his boundless territory. But I felt a pinch of regret, for I had conceived a liking for the man and did not wish to see him humbled.
"Come on," said Old Master, leading the way, but Old Miss interposed. "You must not go near that vicious creature," she said to Mr. Clem. "Nothing would delight him more than to plant a hoof between your eyes, and I declare, General, it's a shame that you encourage such a thing."
"Come out and take a drive with me," Mr. Clem cried, gently putting Old Miss out of the way. But she shuddered at the thought and closed the door upon us as we passed out. "In one respect I am not a true Kentuckian," said my Young Master to Mr. Clem as we walked along toward the stable. "I could never find it in my heart to worship a horse."
Mr. Clem stepped in front of the young man, halted and looked at him and then at Old Master. "Guilford," said he, "can it be possible that this is your son?"