horse about the head with a three-legged stool, if that horse is going
to leave at all, it's time he was off."

"I should think it was," said Davy, earnestly.

"You'll observe, of course, that I've kept on my shoes and my collar,"
said Ribsy. "It isn't genteel to go barefoot, and nothing makes a fellow
look so untidy as going about without a collar. The truth is," he
continued, sitting down in the road on his hind legs,--"the truth is,
I'm not an ordinary horse, by any means. I have a history, and I've
arranged it in a popular form, in six canters,--I mean cantos," he
added, hastily correcting himself.

"I'd like to hear it, if you please," said Davy, politely.

"Well, I'm a little hoarse,"--began Ribsy.

"I think you're a very big horse," said Davy, in great surprise.

"I'm referring to my voice," said Ribsy, haughtily. "Be good enough not
to interrupt me again;" and, giving two or three preliminary whistles to
clear his throat, he began:--

_It's very confining, this living in stables,
And passing one's time among wagons and carts;
I much prefer dining at gentlemen's tables,
And living on turkeys and cranberry tarts._

_I find with surprise that I'm constantly sneezing;
I'm stiff in the legs, and I'm often for sale;
And the blue-bottle flies, with their tiresome teasing,
Are quite out of reach of my weary old tail._

"By the way," said Ribsy, getting up and turning himself around, "what
does my tail look like?"

"I think," said Davy, after a careful inspection, "I think it looks
something like an old paint-brush."

"So I supposed," said Ribsy, gloomily, and, sitting down again, he went
on with his history:--

_As spry as a kid and as trim as a spider
Was I in the days of the Turnip-top Hunt,
When I used to get rid of the weight of my rider
And canter contentedly in at the front._

_I never was told that this jocular feature
Of mine was a trick reprehensibly rude,
And yet I was sold, like a commonplace creature,
To work in a circus for lodgings and food._

"I suppose you have never been a circus-horse?" said Ribsy, stopping
short in his verses again and gazing inquiringly at Davy.

"Never," said Davy.

"Then you don't know anything about it," said Ribsy. "Here we go
again:"--

_Pray why, if you please, should a capable charger
Perform on a ladder and prance in a show?
And why should his knees be made t