Mark Twain's Horse

"Gentlemen, this horse of mine was tough-bitted, and he went so fast that I liad to guidehim by electricity- had to have wire lines and keep a battery in the wagon all the time in order tö stop him." "Why didn't you stop him by hollering who-a?" I asked. "Stop him by hollering who-a? Why, I couldn't holler loud enough to niake that horse hear me. He traveled so fast that no sound ever reached him froin beliind. He went faster than the sound, air. Holler who-a! and he'd be in the next town before the sound of your voice could reach the dash-board. "Travel fast!" I should say he could. Why, I once started f rom Virginia City for Meadow Creek right in front of one of the most dreadful rainstonns we ever had on the Pacilic Coast. 'Wind and rain !' Why, the wind blew eighi y miles an hour, and the rain feil in sheets. I drove right before the storm for three hours - just on the edge of that hurricane and rain for forty miles." 'Didn't you get drenched?" "Drenched? No, sir! What did I keep that fast horse for? Why, I teil you I drove right i:i front of that rain storm. I could lean forward and let the sun shine on me, or lean backward and teel the rain and catch hail stones. When tlie hurricane slacked up the horse slacked up, too, and when itblew faster, 1 just s;iid 'Git up!' to the horse and touohed the battery, and avvay he went. Xow, I don't want to teil a lie about my horse, and 1 don't ask youto believe what I say. but I teil you truthfully that when I got to Meadow Creek my line;: duster was as dry as powder. Not a drop on the wagon either, while the wagon box was level full of hallstones and water."