Just after you left he took a severe cold, and he coughed incessantly.

You could hear him cough for miles.

All the neighbors complained of it, and Mr.Potts, next door, was so mad that he shot at the horse four times.

Patrick said it was whooping-cough." "Whooping-cough, darling! Impossible! A horse _never_ has whooping-cough." "Well, Patrick said so.

And as I always give paregoric to the children when they cough, I concluded that it would be good for the horse, so I bought a bucketful and gave it to him with sugar." "A bucketful of paregoric, my love! It was enough to kill him." "Patrick said that was a regular dose for a horse of sedentary habits; and it didn't kill him: it put him to sleep.