'There's a comely
creature! There's high mettle! There's bone!'
There was bone enough beyond all doubt; and so Hugh seemed to think, as
he sat sideways in the saddle, lazily doubled up with his chin nearly
touching his knees; and heedless of the dangling stirrups and loose
bridle-rein, sauntered up and down on the little green before the door.
'Mind you take good care of her, sir,' said John, appealing from this
insensible person to his son and heir, who now appeared, fully equipped
and ready. 'Don't you ride hard.'
'I should be puzzled to do that, I think, father,' Joe replied, casting
a disconsolate look at the animal.
'None of your impudence, sir, if you please,' retorted old John. 'What
would you ride, sir? A wild ass or zebra would be too tame for you,
wouldn't he, eh sir? You'd like to ride a roaring lion, wouldn't you,
sir, eh sir? Hold your tongue, sir.' When Mr Willet, in his differences
with his son, had exhausted all the questions that occurred to him, and
Joe had said nothing at all in answer, he generally wound up by bidding
him hold his tongue.
'And what does the boy mean,' added Mr Willet, after he had stared at
him for a little time, in a species of stupefaction, 'by cocking his
hat, to such an extent! Are you going to kill the wintner, sir?'
'No,' said Joe, tartly; 'I'm not.
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