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Foote, John Taintor, 1881-1950

"Blister Jones"


"'Can you get him so he can walk?' I says to the vet. when he's looked
at the colt.
"'Yes,' he says; 'but that'll be about all for him. I advise you to
have him destroyed. What hoss _is_ this?'
"'Hamilton,' I says. 'He just wins the colt race.'
"'So?' he says. 'I didn't see it. When did _this_ happen?'
"'At the post,' I says. 'Another colt jumped on him.'
"'At the post?' he says. 'I thought you said he won?'
"'He did,' I says.
"'On _that_?' he says, pointin' to the leg. 'What you tryin' to do,
kid me?'
"'I'm tellin' it to you just as she happens,' I says. 'It don't matter
a damn to me whether you believe it or not!'
"'Why, you _ain't_ kiddin', are you?' he says. 'Wait a minute--'
"He goes outside 'n' I see him talkin' to several.
"'It's straight,' he says, when he comes back. 'But it ain't possible!'
"'Who owns this colt?' he says, after he's looked at the leg some more.
"'I do,' I says. 'I just give a hundred 'n' thirty fur him.'
"'What did you ever buy _him_ for?' he says.
"I studies a minute, a-lookin' at Hamilton.
"'I've got softenin' of the brain, I guess,' I says.
"'He's a nice made thing,' says the vet. 'How's he bred?'
"I tells him, 'n' he looks at the leg some more, 'n' then walks 'round
the colt a couple a times.
"'I tell you what I'll do,' he says after while. 'I'll take him off
your hands at just what you paid. I'm givin' it to you straight--_this
hoss wont never do more than walk_.


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