He held the halter of the powerful stallion indifferently, as if he were tired.

The three stood to let him pass over the stepping-stones of the first brook.
Paul admired that so large an animal should walk on such springy toes, with an endless excess of vigour.

Limb pulled up before them.
"Tell your father, Miss Leivers," he said, in a peculiar piping voice, "that his young beas'es 'as broke that bottom fence three days an' runnin'." "Which ?" asked Miriam, tremulous.
The great horse breathed heavily, shifting round its red flanks, and looking suspiciously with its wonderful big eyes upwards from under its lowered head and falling mane.
"Come along a bit," replied Limb, "an' I'll show you." The man and the stallion went forward.

It danced sideways, shaking its white fetlocks and looking frightened, as it felt itself in the brook.
"No hanky-pankyin'," said the man affectionately to the beast.
It went up the bank in little leaps, then splashed finely through the second brook.

Clara, walking with a kind of sulky abandon, watched it half-fascinated, half-contemptuous.