The Bishop of Cottontown Part 28

"Well, the colt come ten years ago--an' I named him Ben Butler--cause I hated old Ben Butler so. He had my oldest son shot in New Orleans like he did many other rebel prisoners. But this was G.o.d's colt an'

G.o.d had told me to love my enemies an' do good to them that did wrong to me, an' so I prayed over it an' named him Ben Butler, hopin'

that G.o.d 'ud let me love my enemy for the love I bore the colt. An'

He has."

Bud shook his head dubiously.

"He showed me I was wrong, Bud, to hate folks, an' when I tell you of po' Cap'n Tom an' how good Gen. Butler was to him, you'll say so, too.

"From the very start Ben Butler was a wonder. He came with fire in his blood an' speed in his heels.

"An' I trained him. Yes--from the time I was Gen. Travis' overseer I had always trained his hosses. I'm one of them preachers that believes G.o.d intended the world sh'ud have the best hosses, as He intended it sh'ud have the best men an' women. Take all His works, in their fitness an' goodness, an' you'll see He never 'lowed for a scrub an' a quitter anywhere. An' so when He gave me this tip on Ben Butler's speed I done the rest.

"G.o.d gives us the tips of life, but He expects us to make them into the dead cinches.

"Oh, they all laughed at us, of course, an' nicknamed the colt Mister Isaacs, because, like Sarah's son, he came in answer to prayer. An'

when in his two-year-old form, I led him out of the stable one cold, icy day, an' he was full of play an' r'ared an' fell an' knocked down his hip, they said that 'ud fix Mister Isaacs.

"But it didn't pester me at all. I knowed G.o.d had done bigger things in this world than fixin' a colt's hip, an' it didn't shake my faith.

I kept on prayin' an' kept on trainin'.

"Well, it soon told. His hip was down, but it didn't stop him from flyin'. As a three-year-old he paced the Nashville half mile track in one-one flat, an' though they offered me then an' there a thousand dollars for Ben Butler, I told 'em no,--he was G.o.d's colt an' I didn't need but half of that to raise the mortgage, an' he'd do that the first time he turned round in a race.

"I drove him that race myself, pulled down the five hundred dollar purse, refused all their fine offers for Ben Butler, an' me an' him's been missionaryin' round here ever since."

"Great hoss--great!" said Bud, his eyes sparkling,--"allers told you so! Think I'll get out and hug him."

This he did while the Bishop sat smiling. But in the embrace Ben Butler planted a fore foot on Bud's great toe. Bud came back limping and whimpering with pain.

"Now there, Bud," said the Bishop, consolingly. "G.o.d has spoken to you right there."

"What 'ud He say?" asked Bud, looking scary again.

"Why, he said through Nature's law an' voice that you mustn't hug a hoss if you don't want yo' toes tramped on."

"Who must you hug then?" asked Bud.

"Yo' wife, if you can't do no better," said the Bishop quietly.

"My wife's wussern a hoss," said Bud sadly--"she bites. I'm sorry you didn't take that thar thousan' dollars for him," he said, looking at his bleeding toe.

"Bud," said the old man sternly, "don't say that no mo'. It mou't make me think you are one of them selfish dogs that thinks money'll do anything. Then I'd hafter watch you, for I'd know you'd do anything for money."

Bud crawled in rather crest-fallen, and they drove on.

CHAPTER IV

HOW THE BISHOP FROZE

The Bishop laughed outright as his mind went back again.

"Well," he went on reminiscently, "I'll have to finish my tale an'

tell you how I throwed the cold steel into Jud Carpenter when I got back. I saw I had it to do, to work back into my daddy-in-law's graces an' save my reputation.

"Now, Jud had lied to me an' swindled me terribly, when he put off that old no-count hoss on me. Of course, I might have sued him, for a lie is a microbe which naturally develops into a lawyer's fee. But while it's a terrible braggart, it's really cowardly an' delicate, an' will die of lock-jaw if you only pick its thumb.

"So I breshed up that old black to split-silk fineness, an' turned him over to Dr. Sykes, a friend of mine living in the next village.

An' I said to the Doctor, 'Now remember he is yo' hoss until Jud Carpenter comes an' offers you two hundred dollars for him.'

"'Will he be fool enough to do it?' he asked, as he looked the old counterfeit over.

"'Wait an' see,' I said.

"I said nothin', laid low an' froze an' it wa'n't long befo' Jud come 'round as I 'lowed he'd do. He expected me to kick an' howl; but as I took it all so nice he didn't understand it. Nine times out of ten the best thing to do when the other feller has robbed you is to freeze. The hunter on the plain knows the value of that, an' that he can freeze an' make a deer walk right up to him, to find out what he is. Why, a rabbit will do it, if you jump him quick, an' he gets confused an' don't know jes' what's up; an' so Jud come as I thort he'd do. He couldn't stan' it no longer, an' he wanted to rub it in.

He brought his crowd to enjoy the fun.

"'Oh, Mr. Watts,' he said grinnin', 'how do you like a coal black stump-sucker?'

"'Well,' I said indifferent enough--'I've knowed good judges of hosses to make a hones' mistake now an' then, an' sell a hoss to a customer with the heaves thinkin' he's a stump-sucker. But it 'ud turn out to be only the heaves an' easily cured.'

"'Is that so?' said Jud, changing his tone.

"'Yes,' I said, 'an' I've knowed better judges of hosses to sell a nervous hoss for a balker that had been balked onct by a rattle head.

But in keerful hands I've seed him git over it,' I said, indifferent like.

"'Indeed?' said Jud.

"'Yes, Jud,' said I, 'I've knowed real hones' hoss traders to make bad breaks of that kind, now and then--honest intentions an' all that, but bad judgment,'--sez I--'an' I'll cut it short by sayin'

that I'll just give you two an' a half if you'll match that no-count, wind broken black as you tho'rt, that you swapped me.'

"'Do you mean it?' said Jud, solemn-like.

"'I'll make a bond to that effect,' I said solemnly.

"Jud went off thoughtful. In a week or so he come back. He hung aroun' a while an' said:

"'I was up in the country the other day, an' do you kno' I saw a dead match for yo' black? Only a little slicker an' better lookin'--same star an' white hind foot. As nigh like him as one black-eyed pea looks like another.'

"'Jud,' I said, 'I never did see two hosses look exactly alike.

You're honestly mistaken.'

"'They ain't a hair's difference,' he said. 'He's a little slicker than yours--that's all--better groomed than the one in yo' barn.'

"'I reckon he is,' said I, for I knew very well there wa'n't none in my barn. 'That's strange,' I went on, 'but you kno' what I said.'