This version of Fenspace is probably closer to "publishable" really.... Not as much fun in some regards, though.
Eljay smiled at the stunning black Cob pony. 'Well, aren't you a Beauty?' He chuckled to himself. "How much do you want for this one, squire?"
"Twenty-five quid," the hostler said, perhaps too rapidly.
"Hmm. I don't think so." The American pointed at the pony's knees. "He's taken a tumble at some point and, unless I miss my guess his knees are going to give him trouble in a few years. Fifteen."
"Ere now, 'e's sound as anythin', 'e is! Got as much life ahead o' 'im as Methuselah! Twenty!"
Eljay points at the scars in the gelding's flanks. "The poor dobbin's been ridden hard by fools who don't know how to treat rented horseflesh. Who knows how many bad habit's I'll have to correct? Eighteen quid, sixpence, and that's my final offer."
"Right, right. Fair enough. Strewth, you drive a hard bargain." The hostler spit into his right palm and accepted the firm handshake from the new owner of the Earl of W-----'s coach horse.
"I'm a Yankee trader, came by it honestly."
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll
Eljay smiled at the stunning black Cob pony. 'Well, aren't you a Beauty?' He chuckled to himself. "How much do you want for this one, squire?"
"Twenty-five quid," the hostler said, perhaps too rapidly.
"Hmm. I don't think so." The American pointed at the pony's knees. "He's taken a tumble at some point and, unless I miss my guess his knees are going to give him trouble in a few years. Fifteen."
"Ere now, 'e's sound as anythin', 'e is! Got as much life ahead o' 'im as Methuselah! Twenty!"
Eljay points at the scars in the gelding's flanks. "The poor dobbin's been ridden hard by fools who don't know how to treat rented horseflesh. Who knows how many bad habit's I'll have to correct? Eighteen quid, sixpence, and that's my final offer."
"Right, right. Fair enough. Strewth, you drive a hard bargain." The hostler spit into his right palm and accepted the firm handshake from the new owner of the Earl of W-----'s coach horse.
"I'm a Yankee trader, came by it honestly."
''We don't just borrow words; on occasion, English has pursued other languages down alleyways to beat
them unconscious and rifle their pockets for new vocabulary.''
-- James Nicoll