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"
Stan
'
still
,
ye
brute
!
"
chided
Zeb
.
"
I
do
n't
mean
no
harm
to
you
,
tho
'
by
yur
looks
I
reck
'n
ye
're
as
vicious
as
yur
master
.
Stan
'
still
,
I
say
,
an
let
's
hev
a
look
at
yur
fut-gear
!
"
So
saying
,
he
stooped
forward
,
and
made
an
attempt
to
lay
hold
of
one
of
the
fore-legs
.
It
was
unsuccessful
.
The
horse
suddenly
drew
up
his
hoof
;
and
commenced
hammering
the
flags
with
it
,
snorting
--
as
if
in
fear
that
some
trick
was
about
to
be
played
upon
him
.
"
Durn
your
ugly
karkidge
!
"
cried
Zeb
,
angrily
venting
the
words
.
"
Why
do
n't
ye
stan
'
still
?
Who
's
goin
'
to
hurt
ye
?
Come
,
ole
critter
!
"
he
continued
coaxingly
,
"
I
only
want
to
see
how
youv
'
e
been
shod
.
"
Again
he
attempted
to
lift
the
hoof
,
but
was
prevented
by
the
restive
behaviour
of
the
horse
.
"
Wal
,
this
air
a
difeequilty
I
did
n't
expeck
,
"
muttered
he
,
glancing
round
to
see
how
it
might
be
overcome
.
"
What
's
to
be
did
?
It
'll
never
do
to
hev
the
nigger
help
me
--
nor
yet
see
what
I
'm
abeout
--
the
which
he
will
ef
I
do
n't
get
quick
through
wi
'
it
.
Dog-gone
the
hoss
!
How
am
I
to
git
his
feet
up
?
"
For
a
short
while
he
stood
considering
,
his
countenance
showing
a
peevish
impatience
.
"
Cuss
the
critter
!
"
he
again
exclaimed
.
"
I
feel
like
knockin
'
him
over
whar
he
stan
's
.
Ha
!
now
I
hev
it
,
if
the
nigger
will
only
gie
time
.
I
hope
the
wench
will
keep
him
waitin
'
.
Durn
ye
!
I
'll
make
ye
stan
'
still
,
or
choke
ye
dead
ef
ye
do
n't
.
Wi
'
this
roun
'
yur
jugewlar
,
I
reck
'n
ye
wo
n't
be
so
skittish
.
"
While
speaking
he
had
lifted
the
trail-rope
from
his
own
saddle
;
and
,
throwing
its
noose
over
the
head
of
the
sorrel
,
he
shook
it
down
till
it
encircled
the
animal
's
neck
.
