What
colour was he?"
"He was bay. Looky here, Sam"--and now Penrod's manner changed
from the superior to the eager--"you look what kind of horses
they have in a circus, and you bet a circus has the BEST horses,
don't it? Well, what kind of horses do they have in a circus?
They have some black and white ones; but the best they have are
white all over. Well, what kind of a horse is this we got here?
He's perty near white right now, and I bet if we washed him off
and got him fixed up nice he WOULD be white. Well, a bay horse is
worth five hunderd dollars, because that's what Papa said, and
this horse--"
Sam interrupted rather timidly.
"He--he's awful bony, Penrod. You don't guess they'd make any--"
Penrod laughed contemptuously.
"Bony! All he needs is a little food and he'll fill right up and
look good as ever. You don't know much about horses, Sam, I
expect. Why, OUR ole horse--"
"Do you expect he's hungry now?" asked Sam, staring at Whitey.
"Let's try him," said Penrod. "Horses like hay and oats the best;
but they'll eat most anything."
"I guess they will.
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