were some very dejected-looking old horses, with the under-lip hanging down and the ears lying back heavily, as if there was no more pleasure in life, and no more hope; there were some so thin you might see all their ribs, and some with old sores on their backs and hips.  These were sad sights for a horse to look upon, who knows not but he may come to the same state.  I was put with some useful-looking horses, and a good many people came to look at us.  The gentlemen always turned from me when they saw my broken knees; though the man who had me swore it was only a slip in the stall.

The first thing was to pull my mouth open, then to look at my eyes, then feel all the way down my legs and give me a hard feel of the skin and flesh, and then try my paces.  It was wonderful what a difference there was in the way these things were done.  Some did it in a rough, off-hand way, as if one was only a piece of wood; while others would take their hands gently over one’s body, with a pat now and then, as much as to say, “By your leave.”  Of course, I judged a good deal of the buyers by their manners to myself.

There was one man, I thought, if he would buy me, I should be happy.  He was not a gentleman.  He was rather a small man, but well made, and quick in all his motions.  I knew in a moment, by the way he handled me, that he was used to horses; he spoke gently, and his gray eye had a kindly, cheery look in it.  It may seem strange to say—­but it is true all the same—­that the clean, fresh smell there was about him made me take to him; no smell of old beer and tobacco, which I hated, but a fresh smell as if he had come out of a hayloft.  He offered twenty-three pounds for me; but that was refused, and he walked away.  I looked after him, but he was gone, and a very hard-looking, loud-voiced man came.  I was dreadfully afraid he would have me; but he walked off.  One or two more came who did not mean business.  Then the hard-faced man came back again and offered twenty-three pounds.  A very close bargain was being driven, for my salesman began to think he should not get all he asked, and must come down; but just then the gray-eyed man came back again.  I could not help reaching out my head toward him.  He stroked my face kindly.  “Well, old chap,” he said, “I think we should suit each other.  I’ll give twenty-four for him.”

“Say twenty-five, and you shall have him.”  “Twenty-four then,” said my friend, in a very decided tone, “and not another sixpence—­yes, or no?”

“Done,” said the salesman; “and you may depend upon it there’s a monstrous deal of quality in that horse, and if you want him for cab work he’s a bargain.”

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