I got an old acquaintance in the South of
England to send me four or five; they were all greys, useful workers,
but wanting the spirit and stamina of the English horse; and they
would always wait for the Englishman to start a heavy standing load
before throwing their weight into the collar. Jim told me that they
were "desperate ongain" (very awkward), and, as foreigners, well they
might be, for I myself had some difficulty in understanding the local
words of command, more especially in ploughing, when, with a team of
four, he shouted his orders, addressing the new horses by names with
which they were quite unfamiliar.
I admired Jim's loyalty to his late master, if not his veracity, at
the valuation of the stock, which I took over as it stood. Being aware
that there was a lame one or two among the horses, I warned my valuer
beforehand. We entered the stable, and my valuer, thinking to catch
Jim off his guard, asked casually which they were. Jim was quite ready
for him, and answered without a moment's hesitation, "Nerrun, sir"
(never a one). They were, however, easily detected when trotted out on
the road.
Jim was a capital hand at "getting up" a horse for sale; an extra sack
or two of corn, constant grooming, and rest in the stable, with the
aid of some mysterious powders, which, I think, contained arsenic,
soon brought out the "dapples," which he called "crown-pieces," on
their coats, and in a couple of months' time one scarcely recognized
the somewhat angular beast upon which his labours had wrought a
miracle, and put a ten-pound note at least on the value.
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