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 "I want all you here ter understand thet ther ain't no Kansas, ner no Kentucky, ner yet no Vermont, in our business. There 's jest two kind o' horse in the United States—them ez can an' will do their work after bein' properly broke an' handled, an' them as won't. I 'm sick an' tired o' this everlastin' tail-switchin’ an' wickerin' abaout one State er another. A horse kin be proud o' his State, an’ swap lies abaout it in stall or when he 's hitched to a block, ef he keers to put in fly-time that way; but he hain't no right to let that pride o' hisn interfere with his work, ner to make it an excuse fer claimin’ he 's different. That 's colts' talk, an' don't you fergit it, Tweezy. An', Marcus, you remember that bein' a philosopher, an' anxious to save trouble,—fer you are—don't excuse you from jumpin' with all your feet on a slack-jawed, crazy clay-bank like Boney here. It 's leavin' 'em alone that gives 'em their chance to ruin colts an' kill folks. An', Tuck, waal, you 're a mare anyways—but when a horse comes along an' covers up all his talk o’ killin' with ripplin' brooks, an' wavin' grass, an' eight quarts of oats a day free, after killin' his man, don't you be run away with by his yap. You 're too young an' too nervous."

"I ’ll—I 'll have nervous prostration sure ef there 's a fight here," said Tuck, who saw what was in Rod's eye; "I 'm—I 'm that sympathetic I 'd run away clear to next caounty."

"Yep; I know that kind o' sympathy. Jest lasts long enough to start a fuss, an' then lights aout to moke new trouble. I hain't been ten years in harness fer nuthin'. Naow, we 're goin' to keep school with Boney fer a spell."