Now, in dreadfully busy times, father let Ned and Jo work a little, but not very much.

They were not plow horses; they were roadsters.

They liked to prance, and bow their necks and dance to the carriage.

It shamed them to be hitched to a plow.
They drooped their heads and slunk along like dogs caught sucking eggs.
But they were a sight on the landscape.

They were lean and slender and yet round too, matched dapple gray on flank and side, with long snow-white manes and tails.