Чорний красень

25 Reuben Smith

           

           “No,”saidSmith,“thatwillbeallrighttillwegethome.”

           Hespokeinaveryloud,offhandway,andIthoughtitveryunlikehimnottoseeabouttheshoe,ashewasgenerallywonderfullyparticularaboutloosenailsinourshoes.Hedidnotcomeatsixnorseven,noreight,anditwasnearlynineo’clockbeforehecalledforme,andthenitwaswithaloud,roughvoice.Heseemedinaverybadtemper,andabusedthehostler,thoughIcouldnottellwhatfor.

           Thelandlordstoodatthedoorandsaid,“Haveacare,Mr.Smith!”butheansweredangrilywithanoath;andalmostbeforehewasoutofthetownhebegantogallop,frequentlygivingmeasharpcutwithhiswhip,thoughIwasgoingatfullspeed.Themoonhadnotyetrisen,anditwasverydark.Theroadswerestony,havingbeenrecentlymended;goingoverthematthispace,myshoebecamelooser,andaswenearedtheturnpikegateitcameoff.

           IfSmithhadbeeninhisrightsenseshewouldhavebeensensibleofsomethingwronginmypace,buthewastoodrunktonotice.

           Beyondtheturnpikewasalongpieceofroad,uponwhichfreshstoneshadjustbeenlaid—largesharpstones,overwhichnohorsecouldbedrivenquicklywithoutriskofdanger.Overthisroad,withoneshoegone,Iwasforcedtogallopatmyutmostspeed,myridermeanwhilecuttingintomewithhiswhip,andwithwildcursesurgingmetogostillfaster.Ofcoursemyshoelessfootsuffereddreadfully;thehoofwasbrokenandsplitdowntotheveryquick,andtheinsidewasterriblycutbythesharpnessofthestones

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