One of the mounted constabulary, a smart officer, fortunately discovered in time that the pony was a roarer; while the Hungarian Israelite who lends help on notes of hand, post-obits, personal applications, and other insecurities, and is on terms of friendly intimacy with most of the garrison, when about to make an offer, found, to his great regret, that the pony's hind legs were even more defective than the fore.

The end of it was that I had to sell the pony--for what it cost me.

I am indebted to the Reverend Mr.
Roberts, of the American Baptist Mission, for helping me to sell my pony.

Mr.Roberts has a pious gift for buying ponies and selling them--at a profit.

He offered me 40 rupees for my pony.