PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
"Thinking of buying him, sir?"
"No, I don't want him. Too leggy, eh?"
"That's accordin' to fancy, Mr. Ames," replied Culver, chewing thoughtfully on the straw in his mouth. "’E's an oldish 'orse, sir, but 'e's got a lot o' life in 'im yet. At five hundred 'e'd be a rare bargain, sir."
But Gordon was not listening.
"Give me The Goat, Culver. How's his knee, by the way?"
"It's 'ealin', sir." Culver spoke disinterestedly. He didn't approve of The Goat, who was a half-bred Kentucky with little to recommend him but strength and willingness. "’E won't 'urt to be used a bit, sir."
The Goat was led out presently, a small flea-bitten gray with a meek eye and ears so large that Culver, out of Gordon's hearing, referred to him "as that damned mule." The Goat had been purchased under the misapprehension that he had somewhere within him the making of a polo pony, but he had proven too slow for that purpose, and Gordon, admiring the animal for his good disposition, promptly dubbed him The Goat and used him more often than any other saddle horse in
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