David Harum | Page 7

he says."
"They do say," put in Mrs. Bixbee, "thet Mis' Perkins don't hev much
of a time herself."
"Guess she hez all the time the' is," answered David. "Wa'al," he went
on, "we passed the time o' day, an' talked a spell about the weather an'
all that, an' finely I straightened up the lines as if I was goin' on, an'
then I says: 'Oh, by the way,' I says, 'I jest thought on't. I heard Dominie
White was lookin' fer a hoss that 'd suit him.' 'I hain't heard,' he says;
but I see in a minute he had--an' it really was a fact--an' I says: 'I've got
a roan colt risin' five, that I took on a debt a spell ago, that I'll sell
reasonable, that's as likely an' nice ev'ry way a young hoss as ever I
owned. I don't need him,' I says, 'an' didn't want to take him, but it was
that or nothin' at the time an' glad to git it, an' I'll sell him a barg'in.
Now what I want to say to you, deakin, is this: That hoss 'd suit the

dominie to a tee in my opinion, but the dominie won't come to me.
Now if you was to say to him--bein' in his church an' all thet,' I says,
'that you c'd get him the right kind of a hoss, he'd believe you, an' you
an' me 'd be doin' a little stroke of bus'nis, an' a favor to the dominie
into the bargain. The dominie's well off,' I says, 'an' c'n afford to drive a
good hoss.'"
"What did the deakin say?" asked Aunt Polly as David stopped for
breath.
"I didn't expect him to jump down my throat," he answered; "but I seen
him prick up his ears, an' all the time I was talkin' I noticed him lookin'
my hoss over, head an' foot. 'Now I 'member,' he says, 'hearin' sunthin'
'bout Mr. White's lookin' fer a hoss, though when you fust spoke on't it
had slipped my mind. Of course,' he says, 'the' ain't any real reason why
Mr. White shouldn't deal with you direct, an' yit mebbe I could do more
with him 'n you could. But,' he says, 'I wa'n't cal'latin' to go t' the
village this mornin', an' I sent my hired man off with my drivin' hoss.
Mebbe I'll drop 'round in a day or two,' he says, 'an' look at the roan.'
"'You mightn't ketch me,' I says, 'an' I want to show him myself; an'
more'n that,' I says, 'Dug Robinson's after the dominie. I'll tell ye,' I
says, 'you jest git in 'ith me an' go down an' look at him, an' I'll send ye
back or drive ye back, an' if you've got anythin' special on hand you
needn't be gone three quarters of an hour,' I says."
"He come, did he?" inquired Mrs. Bixbee.
"He done so," said David sententiously. "Jest as I knowed he would,
after he'd hem'd an' haw'd about so much, an' he rode a mile an' a half
livelier 'n he done in a good while, I reckon. He had to pull that old
broad-brim of his'n down to his ears, an' don't you fergit it. He, he, he,
he! The road was jest full o' hosses. Wa'al, we drove into the yard, an' I
told the hired man to unhitch the bay hoss an' fetch out the roan, an'
while he was bein' unhitched the deakin stood 'round an' never took his
eyes off'n him, an' I knowed I wouldn't sell the deakin no roan hoss that
day, even if I wanted to. But when he come out I begun to crack him up,
an' I talked hoss fer all I was wuth. The deakin looked him over in a

don't-care kind of a way, an' didn't 'parently give much heed to what I
was sayin'. Finely I says, 'Wa'al, what do you think of him?' 'Wa'al,' he
says, 'he seems to be a likely enough critter, but I don't believe he'd suit
Mr. White--'fraid not,' he says. 'What you askin' fer him?' he says.
'One-fifty,' I says, 'an' he's a cheap hoss at the money'; but," added the
speaker with a laugh, "I knowed I might 's well of said a thousan'. The
deakin wa'n't buyin' no roan colts that mornin'."
"What did he say?" asked Mrs. Bixbee.
"'Wa'al,' he says, 'wa'al, I guess you ought to git that much fer him, but
I'm 'fraid he ain't what Mr. White wants.' An' then, 'That's quite a hoss
we come down with,' he says. 'Had him long?' 'Jest long 'nough to git
'quainted with him,' I says. 'Don't you want the roan fer your own use?'
I says. 'Mebbe we c'd shade