folks arter
all.'

"'Come,' says he, 'let me be, that's a good soul, it's bad enough,
without being larfed at, that's a fact. I can't account for this caper,
no how.'

"'It's very strange too, ain't it! What on airth got into the hoss to
make him act so ugly. Can you tell, Mr. Slick?'

"'Why,' sais I, 'he don't know English yet, that's all. He waited for
them beautiful French oaths that Goodish used. Stop the fust Frenchman
you meet and give him a shillin' to teach you to swear, and he'll go
like a lamb.'

"I see'd what was the matter of the hoss by his action as soon as we
started; but I warn't agoin' for to let on to him about it. I wanted to
see the sport. Well, he took his hoss by the bridle and led him over the
bridge, and he follered kindly, then he mounted, and no hoss could go
better. Arter a little, we came to another bridge agin, and the same
play was acted anew, same coaxin', same threatenin', and same thrashin';
at last pony put down his head, and began to shake his tail, a gettin'
ready for another bout of kickin'; when Steve got off and led him, and
did the same to every bridge we come to.

"'It's no use,' sais I, 'you must larn them oaths, he's used to 'em
and misses them shocking. A sailor, a hoss, and a nigger ain't no good
without you swear at 'em; it comes kinder nateral to them, and they look
for it, fact I assure you. Whips wear out, and so do spurs, but a good
sneezer of a cuss hain't no wear out to it; it's always the same.'

"'I'll larn him sunthin', sais he, 'when I get him to home, and out o'
sight that will do him good, and that he won't forget for one while, I
know.'

"Soon arter this we came to Everett's public-house on the bay, and
I galloped up to the door, and went as close as I cleverly could on
purpose, and then reined up short and sudden, when whap goes the pony
right agin the side of the house, and nearly killed himself. He never
stirred for the matter of two or three minutes. I actilly did think he
had gone for it, and Steve went right thro' the winder on to the floor,
with a holler noise, like a log o' wood thrown on to the deck of a
vessel. 'Eugh!' says he, and he cut himself with the broken glass quite
ridikilous.

"'Why,' sais Everett, 'as I am a livin' sinner this is "the
Grave-digger," he'll kill you, man, as sure as you are born, he is the
wickedest hoss that ever was seen in these clearins here; and he is
as blind as a bat too. No man in Nova Scotia can manage that