human
We'll have to do this thing in the orthodox way, Augusta, or that horse will laugh himself to death at us.
gpt
I know what goes on first, Augusta defended herself against his implications.
human
But I don't know the name of it.
gpt
Never mind, said Jimmie.
human
Go over and get the horse by the mane. Talk to him. Divert his attention. I'm nervous while he watches me fooling about with his necktie and suspenders. What the deuce is his name, anyhow? In another minute I'll be calling him 'it,' like a baby.
gpt
Why, Jimmie, I forgot to ask! Augusta confessed blankly, feeling herself convicted of a serious neglect.
human
Whatever shall we do?
gpt
Christen him.
human
But what good will that do? He won't know that it's his name.
gpt
Tell him.
human
But, how?
gpt
How did he find out his name in the first place?
human
I don't know--Oh yes, Augusta brightened,
gpt
You just shake the oats at him, or whatever it is for little horses, and you say Dan, Dan, or whatever it is. And that's his name!
human
But suppose it was Alice? Nonsense! Jimmie argued contrarily.
gpt
He'd think it was the name of the oats. Just as if you said Bran, Bran! or Force, Force! or Shredded--
human
Now Jimmie, please stop. And be serious and think. You _know_ we've got to call him _something_. Why just think! If anyone should stop us and ask us what was our horse's name. And we'd have to say that we didn't know. And then they'd tell somebody else. And somebody else would stop us and ask us. And then we'd be stopped and suspected and arrested and maybe put in a jail somewhere.
gpt
said Jimmie basely.