I’ll tell you something that’ll spook you, for it nearly put me off my hay. Do you know that fine mare that I’ve been telling you about recently? Molly! Well she’s not Molly at all! No. She is quiet and not much for conversation, but you’d think she’d have the decency to tell a man her name, if he’d got it wrong. But no. She's had the chance to put me wise all Green Grass (Summer) and she hasn't. Here’s me, finding myself admiring her and all the time the wrong name’s going around in my head! I don't think even a good hay-net could settle me! It’s Zabi I’m blaming. You see it was Zabi, who I’d quizzed when she came into the field last Green Grass. I asked him who the fine looking mare in the corner was and he replied, “Molly”. So there I’ve been; admiring the ears on the head of someone who’s not the someone who's ears match the name. In the name of Pegasus!
My Molly is now Fancy. Indeed, Fancy by name and fancy by nature. Beautiful ears. And at least we know something that is true. Zabi has a soft spot for Molly.
Me and Fancy and Molly
No comments:
Post a Comment