ably disrupted the calm even stream of his life. Perhaps eventually he could get it subdued once more.
"Well," he drawled, "anyway you'll find the ham pretty nice. By the way, how's that horse getting along? Getting any fatter? Is his appetite as good as ever?"
Samuel Gage laughed heartily. He was in excellent spirits.
"Dunno," he said, scratching his head. "'At's a queer critter. Too mean, I think, to fatten up. Already it's eat up about ten acres o' hay and doesn't look like it's even started. I dunno whether to sell 'at 'orse and save the farm. Or sell the farm and save the 'orse. 'At 'orse sure 'as 'thusiasm when 'e eats."
"Want to sell him?" asked Jethro Trent. "Guess I could find room on my place for him."
"No," replied Samuel Gage slowly, "don' want to sell 'im. Funny, I kinda like 'at 'orse. It's got a sort o' nice face, like it 'predates what yer does fer it. Reckon if I gets rid o'
anything it'll be the farm. I've allers been a
