I don't take the pleasu' in a broncho that I once did.
I certainly am tired of hosses I can't touch with my hand.

Fo' fo'ty yeahs I have handled these locoed hosses--they ah all locoed in my judgment--and I am plum tired of such.

I shall send to Missouri aw Tennessee and get me a hoss I can trust.

Meanwhile, you leave me yo' hoss an' take my bald-face pinto there; he is the fastest hoss on the range an' a plum devil, but that won't mattah to you, for you ah young an' frisky." Mose hated to yield up his gentle and faithful horse even for a short time, but could not decently refuse.

He shifted his saddle to the pinto with Reynolds' help.
"Whoa, there, Wild Cat," called the rancher, as the wicked eyes began to roll.