"Oh, he don't need it," said the old man dryly.

I was so anxious to get a horse, I concluded to take Dick. I thought, he
must be the best on Martha-Ann's account, and really there didn't seem
much choice.

"You want a harness and waggin too, don't yer?"

"Yes," I replied, "I shall have to have something to drive him in."

"Wall, I guess I can fix you out with a full rig."

So after looking through the sheds, he pulled out an old gig with one
shaft broken and without wheels. "Guess I'll find the wheels of this
somewhar. Do you know this is the same gig that very Dick yused ter haul
on the race track; he may remember it after yer hitch him into it. If he
does, you want to look out for him, and here are the wheels."

He pulled them out of a pile of old lumber and rubbish, and fitted them
on; one was badly dished in and was painted red, the other was as badly
dished out and one day had been painted yellow; but I was anxious and
didn't object; I wanted to get home.

So after getting the "gig" together, he patched a harness from the odd
pieces he found, then fitted them on to the poor horse who looked as if he
was sorry he was alive.

Finally we had everything all ready. I mounted the "gig." As I did so, I
noticed it seemed one sided, and looking at the wheels, I found one was
somewhat larger than the other, but said nothing. Taking up the lines made
up my mind to get home and fix it there. I pulled on the reins and spoke
to "Dick," but he didn't move. The old man took him by the bridle and led
him to the road remarking at the same time, "Dick never did like to go
away from home."

After we reached the road, the old man hit "Dick" with a hoe handle, and
off he started. It was four miles from his house to ours, and I reached
home NEXT DAY. Figured up what the whole thing cost me: The horse stood me
$33.50, the "gig" $7.50, and the harness, (?) 75 cents. This was my outfit
to make or break me. My brothers laughed at my trade, but I didn't care,
I had a purpose, and I was bound to accomplish it.

When I wanted to use my "rig," to harness the horse, I was obliged to take
a ladder to put his bridle on, lead him alongside of the steps to put the
saddle and breeching on, and back him up to the well-curb to put his tail
in the "crupper," and after he was hitched to the "gig," nine times out of
ten he would wait till he was ready to go.

Some time after I learned that uncle "Dan'l" was a regular horse dealer
and kept just