But the truth of the story was as follows: In the first years of this gentleman's life, and about the time when the superb saddle and bridle were purchased by him, it had been his manner, or vanity, or call it what you will, --to run into the opposite extreme. --In the language of the county where he dwelt, he was said to have loved a good horse, and generally had one of the best in the whole parish standing in his stable always ready for saddling; and as the nearest midwife, as I told you, did not live nearer to the village than seven miles, and in a vile country, --it so fell out that the poor gentleman was scarce a whole week together without some piteous application for his beast; and as he was not an unkind-hearted man, and every case was more pressing and more distressful than the last, --as much as he loved his beast, he had never a heart to refuse him; the upshot of which was generally this, that his horse was either clapp'd, or spavin'd, or greaz'd; --or he was twitter-bon'd, or broken-winded, or something, in short, or other had befallen him, which would let him carry no flesh; --so that he had every nine or ten months a bad horse to get rid of, --and a good horse to purchase in his stead.

But the true story was this: in the gentleman's youth, when he bought the superb saddle and bridle, it had been his manner, or vanity, or call it what you will, to go to the opposite extreme. He was said to have loved a good horse, and generally had one of the best in the whole parish in his stable. As the nearest midwife, as I told you, lived seven miles distant from the village, every week the poor gentleman received some piteous application for his beast; and as he was not unkind, he had never the heart to refuse.
The upshot generally was, that his horse was either clapped, or spavined, or lamed; or he was twitter-boned, or broken-winded, or something or other; so that the parson had every nine or ten months a bad horse to get rid of, and a good horse to buy in his stead.
