The ride-stealers made no attempt to fasten their sleds to a contrivance so nonsensical and yet so fearsome.
Instead, they gave over their sport and concentrated all their energies in their lungs, so that up and down the street the one cry shrilled increasingly: "Git a hoss! Git a hoss! Git a hoss! Mister, why don't you git a hoss ?" But the mahout in charge, sitting solitary on the front seat, was unconcerned--he laughed, and now and then ducked a snowball without losing any of his good-nature.

It was Mr.Eugene Morgan who exhibited so cheerful a countenance between the forward visor of a deer-stalker cap and the collar of a fuzzy gray ulster.

"Git a hoss!" the children shrieked, and gruffer voices joined them.

"Git a hoss! Git a hoss! Git a hoss!" George Minafer was correct thus far: the twelve miles an hour of such a machine would never over-take George's trotter.

The cutter was already scurrying between the stone pillars at the entrance to Amberson Addition.
"That's my grandfather's," said George, nodding toward the Amberson Mansion.
"I ought to know that!" Lucy exclaimed.