At once, upon his nag.
But first to him that held the rein
A crown he nimbly flung:
For holding of the horse?—why, no—
For holding of his tongue.
To say the horse was Huggins' own,
Would only be a brag;
His neighbor Fig and he went halves,
Like Centaurs, in a nag.
And he that day had got the gray,