"No, suh," he was saying to them generally, "I'm goin' to withdraw my hoss, because thaih ain't nobody to ride him as he ought to be rode. I haven't brought a jockey along with me, so I've got to depend on pick-ups. Now, the talent's set agin my hoss, Black Boy, because he's been losin' regular, but that hoss has lost for the want of ridin', that's all."
The crowd looked in at the slim-legged, raw-boned horse, and walked away laughing.
"The fools!" muttered the stranger. "If I could ride myself I'd show 'em!"
Patsy was gazing into the stall at the horse.
"What are you doing thaih," called the owner to him.
"Look hyeah, mistah," said Patsy, "ain't that a bluegrass hoss?"
"Of co'se it is, an' one o' the fastest that evah grazed."
"I'll ride that hoss, mistah."
"What do you know 'bout ridin'?"
"I used to gin'ally be' roun' Mistah Boone's paddock in Lexington, an'—"