Was there no horse for me?
I became town-talk as "a drefful fussy old maid who didn't know her own mind, and couldn't be suited no way." I remember one horse brought by a butcher from West Bungtown.

It was, in the vernacular, a buck-skin.

Hide-bound, with ribs so prominent they suggested a wash-board.

The two fore legs were well bent out at the knees; both hind legs were swelled near the hoofs.

His ears nearly as large as a donkey's; one eye covered with a cataract, the other deeply sunken.