One day, just when you was beginnin' to figure on takin' the dust to the hull field, you sees a colt comin' along the road hittin' up a purty slick gait.

'Hello,' says you, 'that looks likely,' and you begin to negotiate, and you finds out that colt's all right and her time's two-ten.

Then you begin to talk about the weather and the crops until you finds out the price, and you offer him half money.

Then, when you have fetched him down to the right figure, you pulls out your wad, thinkin' how that colt will make the rest look like a line of fence-posts.

'But hold on,' says you, 'is this here colt Blue Grass bred ?' 'Blue Grass! Not much.