Iowa capitol reporter. [volume] (Iowa City, Iowa) 1841-1855, 1847-03-17
Hob Waddam's Horse Trade.

ASs3 4
.You knew Bob Waddams, | reckon 4
said Uncle Mike. .sif
Not that | recoliect, Ireplied.
We'll, Bobwas an anazin hand at trad
in horses, and generally come out ahead
too. / never knew him really girdled
and the underbush cut but once.
How was that, Uncle Mike?' 4
Why, yoa see Bob had. Jest been git
tin gray hoss in some Of his deals, that
was Jest about as nice q boss to look at
as ever put his nose through the rack
sticks. He was human lookin' horse
aud nothin' shorter. He was always
looking for stare, and carried his tail like
the National flag Oh the 4th Of July. But
he wouldn't work Tho was above it,
He'd almost stop when he see his shadow
followin' him for fear he might be draw
in Il. Now then, says Bob, some indi-
vidnal is bound to Be picked up. So,
maxim an excuse that Gray 9 shoes want.
ed fixin', he sent him to the blacksmith .
and harnasssd up his other horses, hitch
ed on to wagon load Of stone, and drove
down to Sam Hewett's tavern. Here he
stopped before the door, embarrassed his
near side boss, and bringing Gray over
from the shop, harnessed him UP in his
place. Bob went in and took drink,
and waited around until some man should
come along who wanted to speculate. He
hadn't been waitin' long when he see
some Teller comm up the road like all
possessed, his bosses under full run,
while he was sawin' the bit and holler-
in wo' 100! with all his might and main.
He managed to stop 'em after he got .
little ways BY Sam Hewett's and turning
'em round, he come up slappin' his
hands and cussin' that sorrel boss Hes
never ready to stop,' says he, that hos.
AMI; and tho he's the best boss ever
owned, yet, blast my eyes if | don't gil
shut Of him.
well, Jest then out comes Bob ant
mounted his wgon jest as il he was goin
to drive of, VIXEN says he
Halo, stranger, perhaps you'd like
TO deal with me for steady one9'
why, yes says the stranger, I woule
like something little more quite thai
that 60 ahead snap dragon rascal cf mine
SO Bob he looks at the sorrel, ant
found him fine square built animal, hi
eve full OF fire, and every muscle in paly.
'Well,' says Bob, "a few wsrds doe
for me. There's my gray-here's you
sorrel. What's your preposi,ion!'
sNow you are talking, says the atran
ger, examining the gary, as he stood hitch
ed the load Of stone. 'l'll give you sor,el
and the best forty dollar clock in my wag
on for your gray
Done, said Bob, just unhitch,'
Neither Of them had asked 'tother an,
questions, cause neither one of then
wanted to ansuer any. The horses wer'
exchanged. Bob had got his clock, ant
the stranger got into his wagon; took VI
his lines, and bidding 'em sood.day, wa
about 10 start, when gray put stop to it
and wouldn't bulge hair. In vain di.
the stranger whip and coax-not an incl
could he get. There sat Bob, laughing
in his sleeve, almost ready to burst, to Sc,
how the stranger was trying to start, ant
couldn't. Not word did the strange,
say, however; but after he had got tired
and had given up trying any more, h,
came and SAT down on The horse block.
Bob thought he might as we'll be 60
ing; so picking up his ribbons-'go along,
says he. The sorrel turned his head ane
locked back at aim, as much as to say
don't You wish I would?' BIT didn': eli!