Mrs.Bigsby shuddered slightly as she recognized the usual preliminary to prolixity, but determined, as far as possible, to make her brother brief.
"It mout be two weeks ago," began Dan'l, "that I see John Lummox over at Palmyra, where he'd bin visitin'.

He was drivin' a hoss, the beautifulest critter--for color--I ever saw.

It was yaller, with mane and tail a kinder golden, like the hair o' them British Blondes that was here in the Variety Show." "Dan'l!" exclaimed Mrs.Bigsby, horrified.

"And you allowed you never went thar!" "Saw 'em on the posters--and mebbe the color was a little brighter thar," said Dan'l carelessly--"but who's interruptin' now ?" "Go on," said Mrs.Bigsby.
"'Got a fine hoss thar,' sez I; 'reckon I never see such a purty color,' sez I.

'He is purty,' sez he, 'per'aps too purty for ME to be a-drivin', but he isn't fast.' 'I ain't speakin' o' that,' sez I; 'it's his looks that I'm talkin' of; whar might ye hev got him ?' 'He was offered to me by a fr'en' o' me boyhood,' sez he; 'he's a pinto mustang,' sez he, 'from Californy, whar they breed 'em.' 'What's a pinto hoss ?' sez I.