"It is about the finest horse I ever saw; and if it hadn't been for its temper, it would have been cheap at five times the sum you gave for it.

I have ridden a good many bad-tempered horses for my friends during the last year, and the worst of them couldn't get me off." "Well, sir, of course you will do as you please," Jonas said; "but please to remember if any harm comes of it, that I strongly advised you not to have anything to do with it, and I did my best to dissuade you from trying." Vincent nodded carelessly, and then turned to the black groom.
"Jake, get out that cavalry saddle of my father's, with the high cantle and pommel, and the rolls for the knees.

It's like an armchair, and if one can't stick on on that, one deserves to be thrown." While the groom was putting on the saddle, Vincent stood patting the horse's head and talking to it, and then taking its rein led it down into the inclosure.
"No, I don't want the whip," he said, as Jake offered him one.

"I have got the spurs, and likely enough the horse's temper may have been spoiled by knocking it about with a whip; but we will try what kindness will do with it first." "Me no like his look, Massa Vincent; he debble of a hoss dat." "I don't think he has a nice temper, Jake; but people learn to control their temper, and I don't see why horses shouldn't.

At any rate we will have a try at it.