A WALKING DELEGATE
hain't touched yet. After this little fracas is fixed up, you an' me 'll make up a party an' 'tend to it."
Marcus did not answer for a long time, then he said: "There 's a pup up to the haouse 'bout eight weeks old. He 'll yap till he gits a lickin', an' when he sees it comin' he lies on his back, an' yowls. But he don't go through no cirkituous nose-countin' first. I 've seen a noo light sence Eod spoke. You 'll better stand up to what 's served. I 'm goin' to philosophize all over your carcass."
"I 'm goin' to do yer up in brown paper," said Muldoon. "I can fit you on apologies."
"Hold on. Ef we all biffed you now, these same men you 've been so dead anxious to kill 'u'd call us off. Guess we 'll wait till they go back to the haouse, an' you 'll have time to think cool an' quiet," said Rod.
"Have you no respec' whatever fer the dignity o' our common horsehood?" the yellow horse squealed.
"Nary respec' onless the horse kin do something. America 's paved with the kind er horse you are—jist plain yaller-dog horse—waitin' ter be whipped inter shape. "We call 'em yearlings an' colts when they 're young. When they 're aged we pound 'em—in this pastur'. Horse, sonny, is what you start from. We know all about horse here, an' he ain't any high-toned, pure-souled child o' nature. Horse, plain horse, same ez you, is chock-full o' tricks, an' meannesses, an' cussednesses, an' shirkin's, an' monkey-shines, which he 's took over from his sire an' his dam, an' thickened up with his own special fancy in the way o' goin' crooked. Thet 's horse, an' thet 's about his dignity an'
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