My mare been gift from El Mayor, who boss the Lowell people. Was gift
of his flirtation; but he send her by my brother Driver, for courtesy
between our towns.
Then I been a slight
Driver new-made sergeant. He grown eighteen himself, was bell in
strength. Arm like a knife of steel. He lead this spotten pony
to me by
a ribbon halter, tied on crafty by some Lowell. Yo Money prettieuse,
move neat as wrens. Her every step show gallant, though she still was
Driver's face been laughing sweet. He say, "Some undeserve fourteen
receive a gift from El Mayor."
I been the only fourteen Sengle at this time. So I gone wiggling happy.
Ain't know which crowing yell to make. But then I see how Driver look,
he waiting on my sense.
Our horses Weasel and Big Smoke own by the Sengles all together. Earn
from Lowells through long work, by hour and hour these horses bought.
Extra horse must be the sergeant's keep. I put my hand into her comben
mane, and all my greed resent.
Voice ain't want to budge, but I force out, "The filly must be yours."
My sad hand clutchen in her mane. "You sergeant. So be drill."
Then Driver swat my head and laugh. "You take your goods, my sister. No
El Mayor ain't loving me. Nor ain't my carcass need to pay this debt."
His laugh come loud.
So I get my Money. Nor I pay El Mayor his gift. Ain't our Sengle
manners that we love for bargains so. Sure El Mayor resent this. Call
me selfish cat and
robbers keepers. In
our loving quarrels, Money's name be always heard. But she been worth
all guilts and gripes. Before I done no deeds ferocious, riding her
gallop been the first life of my fearless heart.