THE MALTESE CAT
Kitty was talking with a neck of a lather-covered soda-water bottle between her teeth, and trying to look over her withers at the same time. This gave her a very coquettish air.
"What 's bad?" said Grey Dawn, giving to the girth and admiring his well-set shoulders.
"You Arabs can't gallop fast enough to keep yourselves warm—that 's what Kitty means," said Polaris, limping to show that his hock needed attention. "Are you playing back, Grey Dawn?"
"'Looks like it," said Grey Dawn, as Lutyens swung himself up. Powell mounted The Rabbit, a plain bay country-bred much like Corks, but with mulish ears. Macnamara took Faiz-Ullah, a handy, short-backed little red Arab with a long tail, and Hughes mounted Benami, an old and sullen brown beast, who stood over in front more than a polo-pony should.
"Benami looks like business," said Shiraz. "How 's your temper, Ben?" The old campaigner hobbled off without answering, and The Maltese Cat looked at the new Archangel ponies prancing about on the ground. They were four beautiful blacks, and they saddled big enough and strong enough to eat the Skidars' team and gallop away with the meal inside them.
"Blinkers again," said The Maltese Cat. "Good enough!"
"They 're chargers—cavalry chargers!" said Kittiwynk, indignantly. "They 'll never see thirteen-three again."
"They 've all been fairly measured, and they 've all got their certificates," said The Maltese Cat, "or they
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