“I believe he vas, sir. Quite a gentleman; and vith something to say to all he met. He often came out to the stables, and had a long conwersation vith as poor a feller as I be.” “Pray, what could he have to say to you, Stephen?” demanded the doctor, a little gravely. “Oh! lots of things, sir. He began by praising the horses, and asking their names. I give him _my_ names, sir, not _yourn_; for I thought he might get it into print, somehow, that Dr. McBrain calls his coach-horses after his physic, Pill and Poleus”—“Bolus,” was the real appellation that the owner had been pleased to give this beast; but as Stephen fancied the word had some connection with “pole-horse,” he chose to pronounce it as written—“Yes, I didn’t vish _your_ names to get into the papers, sir; and so I told him ‘Pill’ vas called ‘Marygoold,’ and ‘Poleus,’ ‘Dandelion.’ He promised an article about ’em, sir; and I give him the ages, blood, sires, and dams, of both the beauties. He told me he thought the names delightful; and I’m in hopes, sir, you’ll give up _yourn_, arter all, and take to _mine_, altogether.” “We shall see. And he promised an article, did he?” “Yes, sir, quite woluntary. I know’d that the horses couldn’t be outdone, and told him as much as that; for I thought, as the subject vas up, it might be as vell to do ’em all the credit I could. Perhaps, vhen they gets to be too old for vork, you might vish to part vith ’em, sir, and then a good newspaper character could do ’em no great harm.” Stephen was a particularly honest fellow, as to things in general; but he had the infirmity which seems to be so general among men, that of a propensity to cheat in a transfer of horse-flesh. Dunscomb was amused at this exhibition of character, of which he had seen so much in his day, and felt disposed to follow it up. “I believe you had some difficulty in choosing one of the horses, Stephen”—McBrain commissioned his coachman to do all the bargaining of this sort, and had never lost a cent by his confidence—“Pill, I think it was, that didn’t bring as good a character as he might have done?” “Beg your pardon, ’Squire, ’twas n’t he, but Marygoold. Vhy, the thing vas this: a gentleman of the church had bought Marygoold to go in a buggy; but soon vanted to part vith him, ’cause of his shyin’ in single harness, vhich frightened his vife, _as he said_. Now, all the difficulty vas in this one thing: not that I cared at all about the creatur’s shyin’, vhich vas no great matter in double harness, you know, sir, and a body could soon coax him out of the notion on it, by judgematical drivin’; but the difficulty vas here—if the owner of a horse owned so much ag’in his character, there must be a great deal behind, that a feller must find out as vell as he could. I’ve know’d a foundered animal put off under a character for shyin’.” “And the owner a clergyman, Stephen?” “Perhaps not, sir. But it makes no great matter in tradin’ horses; church and the vorld is much of a muchness.”