It seems the General had “confiscated” --to use a polite term--two beautiful blooded horses, the property of the Hon. Duncan F. Kenner, of this State. Dceming, probably, his title none of the best, and knowing the partiality of Texans and Mexicans for fine stock, he determined to sell them at public auction. Accordingly, a crier, with a bell, announced to the citizens of that border town the sale of these wonderful animals, that could trot, gallop, run, and get along generally so swiftly, that no watch had ever yet been found fast enough to time them. The excitement grew to fever heat, extending far over into the Mexican country.
At length the day arrived, and with it came the auction. A motley, but numerous crowd assembled, and as the horses, carefully blanketed and led by grooms, stepped daintily to and fro, snuffing with expanded nostrils the morning air, the expectations of all were raised to the highest pitch and fully realized. The animals were very beautiful indeed as they stood stripped of their coverings, perfect models of symmetry and grace. The bidding of course was spirited, and soon reached tall figures; but the auctioneer knew a thing or two, and in the midst of the excitement, suddenly ceasing his almost unintelligible jargon, and dropping both arms with an air of supreme disgust, exclaimed, “I What! I thought you knew a fine horse when you saw one. Only one thousand dollars for a thorough-bred! Sonnie, (to a lad who appeared particularly appreciative,) jump on the chestnut and show the gentlemen how she moves; and you, sir, (to another anxious boy,) trot the sorrel off.” Nothing could have been more easy or graceful than the motions of the horses — they were all life and action, and the bids reached still higher notches.
“ Let them go for a hundred yards, boys!” cried the auctioneer, and with the word both animals darted away like arrows from an Indian bow; and, almost sooner than it takes to tell, the clattering of their mailed feet had died upon the air, and their very forms melted into distance. The auctioneer, true to the instinct of his race, was the first to recover from the shock.
“ Going — going — gone! General, apply to that infernal rebel, Colonel H., for your money.”
Out past the farthest picket, whose “halt!” was scarcely uttered ere the objects hailed had vanished, the daring youngsters sped, nor slackened rein until surrounded by their companions in the rebel camp, where, dismounting, they received the warm congratulations of their commander for having so ably executed his little stratagem.
General D., being a church member, did not use any “cuss words” on the occasion, but was as terribly exercised as it is ever allowed by the “, regulations” for a Major-General to become.
