“‘It’s lucky she don’t speak French then,’ sais I, ‘or they’d soon find her tongue was too big for her mouth. That critter will never see five-and-twenty, and I’m a thinkin’, she’s thirty year old, if she is a day.’
“‘I was a thinkin’, said he, with a sly look out o’ the corner of his eye, as if her age warn’t no secret to him. ‘I was a thinkin’ it’s time to put her off, and she’ll jist suit the French. They hante much for hosses to do, in a giniral way, but to ride about; and you won’t say nothin’ about her age, will you? it might endamnify a sale.’
“‘Not I,’ sais I, ‘I skin my own foxes, and let other folks skin their’n. I have enough to do to mind my own business, without interferin’ with other people’s.’
“‘She’ll jist suit the French,’ sais he; ‘they don’t know nothin’ about hosses, or any thing else. They are a simple people, and always will be, for their priests keep ‘em in ignorance. It’s an awful thing to see them kept in the outer porch of darkness that way, ain’t it?’
“‘I guess you’ll put a new pane o’ glass in their porch,’ sais I, ‘and help some o’ them to see better; for whoever gets that mare, will have his eyes opened, sooner nor he bargains for, I know.’
“Sais he, ‘she ain’t a bad mare; and if she could eat bay, might do a good deal of work yet,’ and he gave a kinder chuckle laugh at his own joke, that sounded like the rattles in his throat, it was so dismal and deep, for he was one o’ them kind of fellers that’s too good to larf, was Steve.
“Well, the horn o’ grog he took, began to onloosen his tongue; and I got out of him, that she come near dyin’ the winter afore, her teeth was so bad, and that he had kept her all summer in a dyke pasture up to her fetlocks in white clover, and ginn’ her ground oats, and Indgian meal, and nothin’ to do all summer; and in the fore part of the fall, biled potatoes, and he’d got her as fat as a seal, and her skin as slick as an otter’s. She fairly shined agin, in the sun.
“‘She’ll jist suit the French’, said he, ‘they are a simple people and don’t know nothin’, and if they don’t like the mare, they must blame their priests for not teachin’ ‘em better. I shall keep within the strict line of truth, as becomes a Christian man. I scorn to take a man in.’
“Well, we chatted away arter this fashion, he a openin’ of himself and me a walk in’ into him; and we jogged along till we came to Charles Tarrio’s to Montagon, and there was the matter of a thousand French people gathered there, a chatterin’, and laughin’, and jawin’, and quarrellin’, and racin’, and wrastlin’, and all a givin’ tongue, like a pack of village dogs, when an Indgian comes to town. It was town meetin’ day.
“Well, there was a critter there, called by nickname, ‘Goodish Greevoy,’ a mounted on a white pony, one o’ the scariest little screamers, you ever see since you was born. He was a tryin’ to get up a race, was Goodish, and banterin’ every one that had a hoss to run with him.