— What was your father's profession?
— Well, he, erm... He told fortunes and stole horses. Often he would tell a man that his horse would be stolen and they would marvel at his powers when it was.
— Will he get better?
— Already is... a little.
— Will he race?
— No. Not that one.
— So why are you fixing him?
— Because I can. Every horse is good for something. He could be a cart horse or a lead pony. And he's still nice to look at. You know, you don't throw a whole life away... just because he's
banged up a little.
The body remembers everything. It really does.
— Mick is the best horseman in England.
— He likes to waste money, I know that. According to the reports I've been given, you're spending two pound a month on worming powder.
— What? You want a horse with worms?
— Horses get worms from the water trough. Put goldfish in them, they eat the worm eggs.
— Goldfish? It'll be a gypsy thing, is it?
— No. It's an accounting thing. Goldfish cost a penny each.