Don't jerk the bit, fer his mouth's tender an' it makes him balky.

Ef he balks jest let him rest a time, an' then speak to him.

Dan ain't vicious; he's jest ornery." She climbed into the dilapidated old buggy and took the reins.

Dan groaned and ambled slowly around to where Uncle John stood awaiting his niece.
"Let me drive, Uncle," she said; "I understand Dan." "Well, I don't," returned Uncle John, in his whimsical way, as he mounted to the seat beside her.

"I don't understand how he's happened to live since the landing of Columbus, or what he's good for, or why someone don't knock him on the head." Dan turned his long, lean face as if to give the speaker a reproachful look; then he groaned again, leaned forward, and drew the buggy slowly into the stony lane.
"Do you know where the Thompsons live ?" inquired Uncle John.
"No.