he's so _ter-men_-dous strong, he has the knack o' goin', specially in
deep; and if you're not a-goin' to Sir Richard, but into some o' them
plough sheers (shires), I'd 'commend him to you.'

'Let's have a look at him,' replied Mr. Sponge, throwing his right leg over
Hercules' head and sliding from the saddle on to the ground, as if he were
alighting from the quietest shooting pony in the world.

All then was hurry, scurry, and scamper to get this second prodigy out.
Presently he appeared. Multum in Parvo certainly was all that Buckram
described him. A long, low, clean-headed, clean-necked, big-hocked,
chestnut, with a long tail, and great, large, flat white legs, without mark
or blemish upon them. Unlike Hercules, there was nothing indicative of vice
or mischief about him. Indeed, he was rather a sedate, meditative-looking
animal; and, instead of the watchful, arms'-length sort of way Leather and
Co. treated Hercules, they jerked and punched Parvo about as if he were a
cow.

Still Parvo had his foibles. He was a resolute, head-strong animal, that
would go his own way in spite of all the pulling and hauling in the world.
If he took it into his obstinate head to turn into a particular field, into
it he would be; or against the gate-post he would bump the rider's leg in a
way that would make him remember the difference of opinion between them.
His was not a fiery, hot-headed spirit, with object or reason for its
guide, but just a regular downright pig-headed sort of stupidity, that
nobody could account for. He had a mouth like a bull, and would walk clean
through a gate sometimes rather than be at the trouble of rising to leap
it; at other times he would hop over it like a bird. He could not beat Mr.
Buckram's men, because they were always on the look-out for objects of
contention with sharp spur rowels, ready to let into his sides the moment