Note 1 — “SA! SA!”

A short time ago, a butcher belonging to a western town had a horse of an uncertain age and no remarkable qualities; yet the owner was always “cracking it up” as the best beast in town, of its size—equally good for saddle and harness; sure-footed, staunch to collar, and so on. He also gave his fellow tradesmen to understand that anyone who coveted this choice animal must pay a good sum to tempt him to part with it. For a few days, butchers in surrounding stalls, to their surprise, heard no mention of the famous horse; then they learnt that it had changed owners, and for a lower price than it was expected the seller would have accepted. Butchers in general are much given to banter, and those of the town in question, liking this pastime very much, renewed their jibes by telling the seller of Dobbin that if he had at first only asked a fair price for his horse he would have got much more for it. One of them remarked that what he had stated in favour of the beast was as near the truth as could be expected from a jockey, and nearer than the owner knew of. Another, who was two or three stalls off, bellowed, “Aye by golls!1 He nearly told the truth, for a wonder, but all through’s ign’rance.” In short, they tried to persuade the seller that he had made a bad bargain, though they knew the horse had fetched its full value, or more. The jockey-butcher sat listening to the others’ jeers with good humour, or returning them in the same vein, till, becoming tired of their long harping on the same string he sprang up, and shouted, “Sa! sa! lev’n go, es dry eatan” (let him go, he is dry eating), “as the old man said for the hare.”