The fact was,' continued Mr.Sponge, confidentially, 'I thought him rather too light mouthed; I like a horse that bears more on the hand.' 'Indeed!' observed Mr.Thornton; 'most people think a light mouth a recommendation.' 'I know they do,' replied Mr.Sponge, 'I know they do; but I like a horse that requires a little riding.

Now this is too much of a made horse--too much of what I call an old man's horse, for me.

Bullfrog, whom I bought him of, is very fat--eats a great deal of venison and turtle--all sorts of good things, in fact--and can't stand much tewing in the saddle; now, I rather like to feel that I am on a horse, and not in an arm-chair.' 'He's a fine horse,' observed Mr.Thornton.
'So he ought,' replied Mr.Sponge; 'I gave a hatful of money for him--two hundred and fifty golden sovereigns, and not a guinea back.

Bullfrog's the biggest screw I ever dealt with.' That latter observation was highly encouraging to Thornton.

It showed that Mr.Sponge was not one of your tight-laced dons, who take offence at the mere mention of 'drawbacks,' but, on the contrary, favoured the supposition that he would do the 'genteel,' should he happen to be a seller.
'Well, if you should feel disposed to part with him, perhaps you will have the kindness to let me know,' observed Mr.Thornton; adding, 'he's not for myself, of course, but I think I know a man he would suit, and who would be inclined to give a good price for him.' 'I will,' replied Mr.Sponge; 'I will,' repeated he, adding, 'if I _were_ to sell him, I wouldn't take a farthing under three 'underd for him--three 'underd _guineas_, mind, _not punds_.' 'That's a vast sum of money,' observed Mr.Thornton.
'Not a bit on't,' replied Mr.Sponge.