"Aha, old boy! handsome
beggar!" or--"How's the little lady this morning, eh?" or yet
again--"Rascal! you've been rubbing the hair off your tail!" In the
boxstall Warrington's thoroughbred Irish hunter nozzled his palm for
loaf-sugar, and whinnied with pleasure when he found it. One of the
first things Warrington had done, upon drawing his first big royalty
check, was to buy a horse. As a boy on the farm he had hungered for
the possession of one of those sleek, handsome animals which men call
thoroughbreds. Then for a while he bought, sold and traded horses, for
the mere pleasure it gave him to be near them. Finally he came to
Herculaneum with two such saddle-horses as made every millionaire in
town (and there were several in Herculaneum) offer fabulous sums
whenever they ran across the owner. Next, he added two carriage-horses,
in their way quite equal to the hunters. Men offered to buy these,
too, but Warrington was a property owner now, and he wanted the horses
for his own. In New York one of his wealthy friends had given him free
use of his stables: so Warrington rode, at home and abroad.
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