“My mother’s pride in me and my pony Agate at a Washington, D.C. show was short-lived,” Bazy remembered. “My mother beamed when she overheard spectators on the rail commenting on the dear little child out there in the arena, and she couldn’t resist acknowledging me as her daughter. Briefly, she basked in the wonder of our performance and the lovely picture we presented. All this quickly turned to acute embarrassment for her when, as Agate attempted to run out at a jump, I loudly cursed him out in colorful adult profanities. I was not allowed in the stables for a month.” 

— Bazy Tankersley, Wit and Wisdom, page 104.

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