Warrington was up and about at six the next morning.

He had never really outgrown the natural habit of waking at dawn, but he had fallen upon the evil way of turning over and sleeping till half after nine.
He ate a light breakfast and went out to the stables and moved among the stalls, talking affectionate nonsense to the horses.

A man can not talk baby-talk, that is the undisputed prerogative of the woman; but he has a fashion of his own which serves.

"Aha, old boy! handsome beggar!" or--"How's the little lady this morning, eh ?" or yet again--"Rascal! you've been rubbing the hair off your tail!" In the boxstall Warrington's thoroughbred Irish hunter nozzled his palm for loaf-sugar, and whinnied with pleasure when he found it.

One of the first things Warrington had done, upon drawing his first big royalty check, was to buy a horse.