"Mebbe that _is_ part of the joke," David allowed, "an' I'll tell ye th'
rest on't. Th' next day I hitched the new one to th' dem'crat wagin an'
put in a lot of straps an' rope, an' started off fer the East road agin.
He went fust rate till we come to about the place where we had the fust
trouble, an', sure enough, he balked agin. I leaned over an' hit him a
smart cut on the off shoulder, but he only humped a little, an' never
lifted a foot. I hit him another lick, with the selfsame result. Then I
got down an' I strapped that animal so't he couldn't move nothin' but
his head an' tail, an' got back into the buggy. Wa'al, bom-by, it may
'a' ben ten minutes, or it may 'a' ben more or less--it's slow work
settin' still behind a balkin' hoss--he was ready to go on his own
account, but he couldn't budge. He kind o' looked around, much as to
say, 'What on earth's the matter?' an' then he tried another move, an'
then another, but no go. Then I got down an' took the hopples off an'
then climbed back into the buggy, an' says 'Cluck, to him, an' off he
stepped as chipper as could be, an' we went joggin' along all right
mebbe two mile, an' when I slowed up, up he come agin. I gin him another
clip in the same place on the shoulder, an' I got down an' tied him up
agin, an' the same thing happened as before, on'y it didn't take him
quite so long to make up his mind about startin', an' we went some
further without a hitch. But I had to go through the pufformance the
third time before he got it into his head that if he didn't go when _I_
wanted he couldn't go when _he_ wanted, an' that didn't suit him; an'
when he felt the whip on his shoulder it meant bus'nis."

"Was that the end of his balkin'?" asked Mrs. Bixbee.

"I had to give him one more go-round," said David, "an' after that I
didn't have no more trouble with him. He showed symptoms at times, but a