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Morgan!--She ain't nothing else, and I've got the papers to prove
it.
Sired by Chippewa Chief, and twelve read more
Morgan!--She ain't nothing else, and I've got the papers to prove
it.
Sired by Chippewa Chief, and twelve hundred dollars won't buy
her.
Briggs of Turlumme owned her. Did you know Briggs of Turlumme?--
Busted hisself in White Pine and blew out his brains down in
Frisco?
His neck is high and erect, his head replete with intelligence,
his belly short, his back full, and his read more
His neck is high and erect, his head replete with intelligence,
his belly short, his back full, and his proud chest swells with
hard muscles.
[Lat., Ardua cervix,
Argumtumque caput, brevis alvos, obessaque terga,
Luxuriatque toris animosum pectus.]
Horses make a landscape look beautiful
Horses make a landscape look beautiful
Gamaun is a dainty steed,
Strong, black, and of a noble breed,
Full of fire, and full read more
Gamaun is a dainty steed,
Strong, black, and of a noble breed,
Full of fire, and full of bone,
With all his line of fathers known;
Fine his nose, his nostrils thin,
But blown abroad by the pride within;
His mane is like a river flowing,
And his eyes like embers glowing
In the darkness of the night,
And his pace as swift as light.
Round-hoofed, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide,
High crest, read more
Round-hoofed, short-jointed, fetlocks shag and long,
Broad breast, full eye, small head, and nostril wide,
High crest, short ears, straight legs and passing strong,
Thin mane, thick tail, broad buttock, tender hide:
Look what a horse should have he did not lack,
Save a proud rider on so proud a back.
A good horse should be seldom spurred
A good horse should be seldom spurred
Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of Solitaire. read more
Riding a horse is not a gentle hobby, to be picked up and laid down like a game of Solitaire. It is a grand passion.
Then I cast loose my buff coat, each halter let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt read more
Then I cast loose my buff coat, each halter let fall,
Shook off both my jack-boots, let go belt and all,
Stood up in the stirrup, leaned, patted his ear,
Called my Roland his pet name, my horse without peer;
Clapped my hands, laughed and sang, any noise bad or good,
'Til at length into Aix Roland galloped and stood.
Show me your horse and I will tell you what you are.
Show me your horse and I will tell you what you are.