Photograph by Don Hunstein
"I want to buy your horse."
"Jeezus lady, the horse ain’t for sale, just these here photographs and frames."
"I don't want those things, I want to purchase your horse."
"Lady, for Chriss sake, if I sold you my horse, how would I get my cart and all my wares home?"
"That's not my concern, or problem. Are you going to sell me your horse?"
The man turned away from the woman and leaned on his cart in disgust.
"Photographs, get pretty photographs." he called out of the side of his mouth to whomever was near enough to hear. "Framed photographs, get 'em right here."
The woman scratched behind the horse's ear as it stood patiently by the curb. She had her beaded coin purse clutched tightly in her hand as if she were making a wish.
"Really, sir, how often do you get an offer for your horse?"
The man slapped the back of his neck and hung his head below his shoulders.
"Jeezus, Mary and Joseph lady, would ya leave it alone already? I got a business to run here. If you don't want a photograph, then could you please move it along?"
"I'd gladly move it along as you put it, if I can pay for the horse and take him with me."
The horse stamped its hind leg and twitched a fly off it's flank. The woman crossed her sandaled feet and stood close to the horse, staring in the opposite direction the photograph vendor was looking.
"I mean it lady, Jeezus H. I swear if you don't quit askin' me to sell you my horse, I, I, I don't know what I'm gonna do." The vendor tugged at his craft apron.
"Well then, all your problems are settled, let me give remuneration for your horse, you can keep his harness and bridle and I'll be off, leaving you to conduct your business in solemn peace."
The man turned his head sharply and stared burning holes in the back of the woman's head. His horse just shook its mane and snorted.
"I'm callin' a cop lady, I swear I'm callin' a cop. I can't get no business on this street with you standin' here making a ruckus about buyin' my horse. Now, I'm gonna call a cop."
"Go ahead, he'll agree I'm offering a fair price for your animal." The woman rubbed the horse's muzzle and then very lightly shook her coin purse up and down so the vendor would hear.
"Here, lady, holy mother of- look, I'll give you a free photograph. Here's one of the Eiffel Tower in Paris no less. Or maybe you'd like an artist's, hand-colored photograph of Buckingham Palace... I'll even throw in a genuine imitation silver frame with it. "Sweat stained under his arms and down his back.
The woman took a slow, deep breath and sighed. She brushed off the yoke top of her yellow summer dress and kicked at a cigar butt in the street gutter.
"No, no, I think not. It's your horse or nothing sir. I have grown very fond of this beast while waiting here for you to make up your mind and release him to me. So if you would kindly complete our transaction- "
"LADY! Just stop, will ya? You're killin' me. I give up. I mean it, I really give up. Here, take the damn horse, AND the crumby cart too. I can't run my business without no horse, so just take it all. Horse, cart, photographs and frames. I'm through. You win. Are ya happy now?"
The persistent woman turned, looked the man up and down, handed over her coin purse and watched as he jammed it into his apron pocket and walked hurriedly away. As an afterthought she called out, "You may keep my beaded purse sir."
The man rounded the street corner and never returned.
The woman adjusted the straps on her sandals, pushed back her hair and gave the horse a kind pat on its rear flank as she walked back toward the cart. She dabbled through the ware on the cart. Her fingers browsed around the photos admiring their frames and casually brushed some dust off the cart’s table.
After an appropriate pause and contented sigh, she then loudly shouted,
"Photographs, fancy photographs, get your pretty framed photographs right here."
"Jeezus lady, the horse ain’t for sale, just these here photographs and frames."
"I don't want those things, I want to purchase your horse."
"Lady, for Chriss sake, if I sold you my horse, how would I get my cart and all my wares home?"
"That's not my concern, or problem. Are you going to sell me your horse?"
The man turned away from the woman and leaned on his cart in disgust.
"Photographs, get pretty photographs." he called out of the side of his mouth to whomever was near enough to hear. "Framed photographs, get 'em right here."
The woman scratched behind the horse's ear as it stood patiently by the curb. She had her beaded coin purse clutched tightly in her hand as if she were making a wish.
"Really, sir, how often do you get an offer for your horse?"
The man slapped the back of his neck and hung his head below his shoulders.
"Jeezus, Mary and Joseph lady, would ya leave it alone already? I got a business to run here. If you don't want a photograph, then could you please move it along?"
"I'd gladly move it along as you put it, if I can pay for the horse and take him with me."
The horse stamped its hind leg and twitched a fly off it's flank. The woman crossed her sandaled feet and stood close to the horse, staring in the opposite direction the photograph vendor was looking.
"I mean it lady, Jeezus H. I swear if you don't quit askin' me to sell you my horse, I, I, I don't know what I'm gonna do." The vendor tugged at his craft apron.
"Well then, all your problems are settled, let me give remuneration for your horse, you can keep his harness and bridle and I'll be off, leaving you to conduct your business in solemn peace."
The man turned his head sharply and stared burning holes in the back of the woman's head. His horse just shook its mane and snorted.
"I'm callin' a cop lady, I swear I'm callin' a cop. I can't get no business on this street with you standin' here making a ruckus about buyin' my horse. Now, I'm gonna call a cop."
"Go ahead, he'll agree I'm offering a fair price for your animal." The woman rubbed the horse's muzzle and then very lightly shook her coin purse up and down so the vendor would hear.
"Here, lady, holy mother of- look, I'll give you a free photograph. Here's one of the Eiffel Tower in Paris no less. Or maybe you'd like an artist's, hand-colored photograph of Buckingham Palace... I'll even throw in a genuine imitation silver frame with it. "Sweat stained under his arms and down his back.
The woman took a slow, deep breath and sighed. She brushed off the yoke top of her yellow summer dress and kicked at a cigar butt in the street gutter.
"No, no, I think not. It's your horse or nothing sir. I have grown very fond of this beast while waiting here for you to make up your mind and release him to me. So if you would kindly complete our transaction- "
"LADY! Just stop, will ya? You're killin' me. I give up. I mean it, I really give up. Here, take the damn horse, AND the crumby cart too. I can't run my business without no horse, so just take it all. Horse, cart, photographs and frames. I'm through. You win. Are ya happy now?"
The persistent woman turned, looked the man up and down, handed over her coin purse and watched as he jammed it into his apron pocket and walked hurriedly away. As an afterthought she called out, "You may keep my beaded purse sir."
The man rounded the street corner and never returned.
The woman adjusted the straps on her sandals, pushed back her hair and gave the horse a kind pat on its rear flank as she walked back toward the cart. She dabbled through the ware on the cart. Her fingers browsed around the photos admiring their frames and casually brushed some dust off the cart’s table.
After an appropriate pause and contented sigh, she then loudly shouted,
"Photographs, fancy photographs, get your pretty framed photographs right here."
