There will be wine, said Medora. Drink it. There may be toasts. Be ready to respond. Abner could think on his feet—speech would not fail.

Clearly, a distinction needs to be drawn between Bucephalus's being a certain horse and the equinity that I believe is true of Bucephalus. The reason is that his actual equinity is quite peculiar to him; it is not and cannot be a feature of anything else; it is essentially particular.

The office, or Introite, (as they call it).

Moving a-tiptoe, silent as the elves, / As mischievous too, trip three bare-footed girls / Not yet opened to womanhood— […]