"Think of a red, fat angel, Dulcimer!" he repeated; "for Ruby's
an angel of a horse, Dulcimer. He sprained his ankle and got fat
on purpose."

"What purpose, Diamond?" asked his father.

"Ah! that I can't tell. I suppose to look handsome when his
master comes," answered Diamond.--"What do you think, Dulcimer?
It must be for some good, for Ruby's an angel."

"I wish I were rid of him, anyhow," said his father; "for he weighs
heavy on my mind."

"No wonder, father: he's so fat," said Diamond. "But you needn't
be afraid, for everybody says he's in better condition than when you
had him."

"Yes, but he may be as thin as a tin horse before his owner comes.
It was too bad to leave him on my hands this way."

"Perhaps he couldn't help it," suggested Diamond. "I daresay he
has some good reason for it."

"So I should have said," returned his father, "if he had not driven
such a hard bargain with me at first."

"But we don't know what may come of it yet, husband," said his wife.
"Mr. Raymond may give a little to boot, seeing you've had more of
the bargain than you wanted or reckoned upon."