'I want you to teach
her the jockey's crouch when she's on her horse.'
"Next mawnin' I'm oilin' up the dingus when a chicken pokes her little
head out the back door of the livery-stable.
"'Hello, kid,' she says to me.
"'Hello, girlie,' I says back.
"'_Miss Pixley_, if you _please_,' she says.
"'All right,' I says. ''N' while we're at it Mr. Jones'll suit me.'
"'Fade away,' she says, 'n' I see she's got a couple of dimples. 'Mr.
Jones don't suit you.'
"'Make it Blister, then,' I says.
"'You're on,' she says. 'And you can stick to girlie.'
"Say, she was a great little dame; she makes a hit with me the first
dash out of the box. When it comes to ridin' she's game as a wasp.
She has on a long coat, 'n' I don't see what's underneath.
"'Banks tells me you ride like a jock in the show,' I says. 'You can't
cut the mustard with that rig on.'
"'Sure not, Simple Simon!' she says. 'Do you think this grows on me?'
She sheds the coat, 'n' I see she's got on leggins 'n' a pair of puffy
pants.
"I throws her on to Salvini 'n' he begins to prance around, me holdin'
him by the head.
"'Whoa, you big bum!' I says to him.
"'Quit knocking my horse,' she says. 'Let go of him and see if I care.'
"I turns him loose 'n' she lets him jump a few times 'n' then rides him
on to the machine. I see she knows her business so I stands beside her
'n' makes her sit him like she ought. It don't take her no time to get
wise. Pretty soon she's clear over with a hand on each side of his
withers, 'n' him goin' like a stake hoss.
Pages:
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94