“I guess he is,” said Johnny, hotly; “there isn’t a better horse anywhere.”

“But papa’s groom told me,” persisted the English lad, “that a horse with four white feet and a white nose was worthless. He says,—

‘One white foot, buy him, Two white feet, try him, Three white feet, deny him, Four white feet and a white nose, Take off his skin and throw him to the crows.’”

Johnny detected a roguish glitter in his companion’s blue eyes, and with a corresponding twinkle in his own, merely answered,—

“My old nurse says,—

‘There was an old woman went up in a basket Seventy times as high as the moon.’

I suppose you believe that, too.”

This ready answer pleased the other, and they were soon fast friends.

“What is your name?” Johnny asked.

“Arthur Montgomery,” was the reply.