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 M 
 
 ORNING.— Down 
 
 Earlier than usual. Half- 
 aunt making tea. Mil- 
 burd, as I enter, is ask- 
 ing, " How far it is ?" 
 
 Byng replies, " A mere trot over. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Fridoline looking as bright as Aurora. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Don't say it : keep it to myself. Aurora 
 sounds like a roarer, and the ladies mightn't like it. 
 
 " So soon?" I ask. Don't I know ? "No, I don't." "Oh," 
 says Byng, " we've found out that the Dishiing pack meets 
 near here this morning, so we're going to have a lun with 
 them." 
 
 Happv Thought — Have a run without me. 
 
 " I suppose he hasn't been able to get a horse for me?" I 
 ask this with a tinge of regret in my voice. If he says he 
 hasn't been able, I shall be sorry; if he says he has— why, I 
 feel I must take my chance. 
 
 Happy Thought — lots of people ride, and never have an 
 accident. 
 
 " Hasn't he ? " he returns, heartily. His groom (confound 
 him !) has been up and down the village since five o'clock, and 
 has hit upon a very good one— about sixteen one — well up to 
 my weight. " (airy you, in fact,'' says Milburd, " like a child." 
 " I suppose he's not a hunter, is he ?" 
 
 Happy Thought. — If he's not a hunter, of course I shan't 
 risk him over fences and ditches. 
 
 My doubts are set at rest by the groom, who enters at 
 that moment. He informs me that " The 
 old mare was reg'lar hunted by Mr. Parsons, and 
 with you (me) on his back, sir, she'll go over any 
 thing a'most.' - She'll go, but will II 
 
 Fridoline exclaims, " Oh, how delicious ! Shall 
 we have much jumping ? It is suck fun -! ' 
 
 Milburd appears to know the country. "It's 
 all very easy," he says. " Into one field, pop out 
 again " (this is his description), "into another, over 
 a hedge, little ditch, gallop across the open, little 
 brook (nothing to speak of), sheep hurdle, and 
 then perhaps we may get a clear burst away on the downs." 
 
" I don't care about downs ; there's no jumping there ! " says 
 Fridoline. 
 
 Happy Thought.— Keep on the downs. 
 
 I notice, on their rising- from the table, that Milburd is in 
 tops and breeches, and that Byng is in breeches and black 
 boots. Both wear spurs. 
 
 Happy Thought. — I can't hunt as I am 
 
 The half uncle (who is not going — the coward !) says it won't 
 matter — there's little or no riding required with harriers. He 
 pretends to wish he could join us — old humbug ! I wish he 
 could I should like to see him popping out of one field, into 
 another, over a hedge. 
 
 Byng has been considering. He has got by him an old pair 
 of cords, but no boots. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Can't hunt without' boots. Great 
 nuisance. Better give it up. Don't stop for me. 
 
 A Happy Thought occurs to Milburd. — Patent leggings, 
 fasten with springs. Antigropelos. 
 
 I try them on. They do fit me ; at least, I imagine so 
 (meaning the hunting breeches), though never having worn 
 hunting breeches before, I've got a sort of idea that they're not 
 quite the thing. So very light in the knee. His leggings are 
 patent antigropelos, which go over my stockings and boots. 
 When 1 am dressed I walk downstairs, or rather, waddle 
 downstairs, and can't help remarking that "This is just the 
 
 sort of dress for riding in," or, by the way, for sitting in ; but 
 walking is out of the question. [I wonder if they do fit ] 
 
 Fridoline, 
 who looks so 
 bewitching in 
 her habit that 
 I could fall 
 down on my 
 knees and 
 offer her my 
 hand at once 
 — (my knees! 
 I don't think 
 they do fit : 
 and I question 
 whether this costume exhibits the symmetry of form so well as 
 the modern style) — Fridoline says that I look quite military 
 (She means it as a compliment, but it isn't ; because I want t<> 
 look sportsmanlike) In antigropelos, if like anything, I re- 
 semble the Great Napoleon from the knees. Milburd says I'm 
 not unlike the master of the ring in a French circus. I can't 
 help feeling that I am something like that, or, as I said before, 
 the Great Napoleon. Milburd remarks I ought to have spurs. 
 I object to spurs. I feel that without spurs I'm tolerably safe ; 
 but if there s a question of a spill, spurs will settle it. That's 
 my feeling about spurs. I only say, " Oh, don't trouble your- 
 self." Byng is going to fetch them : " I can get on just as well 
 without spurs.'' The groom says, " She won't want spurs,"' 
 
which awakens me to the fact of the beast being now at the 
 hall-door. A bright chestnut, very tall, broad, and swishing its 
 tail ; with a habit of looking back without turning its head 
 (which movement is unnatural ), as if to see if any one is getting 
 up. I ask. Is this mine ? I feel it is. It is. I can't help 
 savin;; jocosely, as a reminder to others to excuse any short- 
 comings in horsemanship on 
 my part, " I haven't ridden 
 for ever so long ; I'm afraid 
 I shall be rather stiff.'' If 
 stiffness is all I've to fear, I 
 don't care. I wish we were 
 coming home instead of 
 starting. " Will I help Fri 
 doline up ? " I will ; if only 
 to cut out Milburd and not 
 lose an opportunity. What a difficult thing it is to help a lady 
 on to her horse ' After several attempts, I am obliged to 
 give in. 
 
 Happy Thought. — I must practise this somewhere. Private 
 lesson in a riding-school I feel I've fallen in her estimation. 
 I feel I'm no longer the bold dragoon to her. I apologise for 
 my feebleness. She says it doesn't matter. Misery ! to fail 
 and be feeble before the woman you adore. 
 
 So, this is the horse from Brett's stables in the village, which 
 they talked about last night. I shouldn't have had it if Mr. 
 Parsons, who always rides it with the Harriers, " hadn't come 
 rather a nasty cropper " at Deepford Mill, and won't be able 
 
 to go out again for a fortnight. The groom thinks I'm in 
 luck. Hope so. It was off this horse that poor Parsons 
 " came a nasty cropper." Miss Pellingle, on the doorstep, says, 
 " What a pretty creature ' " and observes that she's always heard 
 chestnuts are so fiery. I return, " Indeed ! " carelessly, as if 
 I possessed Mr. Rarey's secret. The whole-uncle (from a 
 window) suggests that "perhaps you'd rather have a roast 
 chestnut."' People laugh. Groom laughs. At me. 
 
 Happy Thought. — " How ill grey hairs become a fool and 
 jester ! " Shakspeare, I think. What happy thoughts Shak- 
 speare had. So applicable to a stupid old idiot. Keep this 
 to myself. 
 
 Mounting. — I don't know 
 
 any work on equestrianism 
 
 which adequately deals with 
 
 the difficulty of equalising 
 
 the length of stirrups. You 
 
 don't find out that one leg 
 
 -_ is longer than the other 
 
 until you get on horseback 
 
 s» .-•'". " ,-» for the first time after 
 
 several years. The right is 
 
 longer than the left. Having removed that inconvenience, the 
 
 left is longer than the right. One hole up will do it. " One 
 
 down ? " asks the groom. I mean one down. 
 
 Happy Thought ( just m time.) — No ; I mean up. 
 
Footman runs after vie, 'Here's a whip.' 1 " 
 
id 
 
 m 
 
 Groom stands in front 
 of rae, as if I was a picture. 
 Placing no further reliance 
 on my own judgment, I 
 ask him " if it's all right 
 now?" He says "Yes," 
 decidedly. From subse- 
 quent experience I believe he makes the answer merely to 
 save himself trouble. Byng, on horseback, curvetting, cries, 
 " Come along .'" If mine curvettes or caracoles, where shall I 
 be ? Perhaps the brute caracoled or curvetted at Deepford 
 Mill when poor Parsons " came " that " nasty cropper." 
 
 Happy Thought. — Sport in the olden time. Hawking. 
 People generally sat still, in one place, watching a hawk. Not 
 much exercise, perhaps, but safe. Why don't they revive 
 hawking ? 
 
 Milburd wants to know if I'm going to be all day. Frido- 
 line's horse is restive ; the other two are restive. I wish 
 they weren't. Mine wants to be restive ; if he goes on sud- 
 denly, I go off. 
 
 Happv Thought.— If I do come a nasty cropper like 
 Parsons, I hope T shall do it alone, or before strangers only. 
 Happy Thought. — The mane. 
 
 I like being comfortable before I start. Stop one minute. 
 One hole higher up on the right. The whole-uncle, who is 
 watching the start — [old coward ! he daren't even come off the 
 dooTstep, and has asked me once if I won't "take some jump- 
 ing-powder." He'd be sorry for his fun if I was borne home 
 
 on a stretcher after a " nasty cropper." I almost wish I was, 
 just to give him a lesson— I mean if I wasn't hurt j— says, 
 '• Aren't those girths rather loose ?*' The groom sees it for the 
 first time. He begins tightening them. Horse doesn't like it. 
 " Woo ! poor fellow ! good old man -I mean good old woman, 
 then." Horse puts back its ears and tries to make himself 
 into a sort of arch. I don't know what happens when a horse 
 puts back its ears. 
 
 Happy Thol'ght. — Ask Milburd. 
 
 He answers, " Kicks " Ah ! I know what happens if he 
 kicks. That would be the time for the nasty cropper. This 
 expression will hang about my memory. " All right now ? " 
 Quite. Still wrong about the stirrups : one dangling, the other 
 lifting my knee up ; but won't say anything more, or Fridoline 
 may think me a nuisance. 
 
 Two reins. Groom says, " She goes easy on the snaffle. 
 Pulls a little at first ; but you needn't hold her." I shall, 
 though. Trotting, I am told, is her " great pace." The reins 
 are confused. One ought to be white, the other black, to dis- 
 tinguish them. Forget which fingers you put them in. Mustn't 
 let the groom see this. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Take 'em up carelessly, anyhow. Watch 
 Byng. 
 
We are walking. My horse very quiet. Footman runs after 
 me. Idiot, to come up abruptly ; enough to frighten any 
 horse. If you're not on your guard, you come off so easily. 
 ''Here's a whip." "Oh, thank you." Right hand for whip, 
 and left for reins like Byng ? Or, left hand for whip and 
 right for reins, like Milburd ? Or, both in one hand, like 
 Fridoline ? Walking gently. As we go along Milburd points 
 
 ■ little fences, which " Your beast would hop over." — 
 Yes, by herself. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Like riding. Fresh air exhilarating. 
 Shall buy a horse. N.B. — Shall buy a horse which will walk 
 as fast as other horses ; not jog. Irritating to jog. If I check 
 him, he jerks his head, and hops. Fridoline calls him " showy " 
 
 ■ if, to a spectator, I'm showy ? Passing by a village 
 grocer's. 
 
 Happy Thought. — See myself in the window. Not bad ; 
 but hardly <: showy." Antigropelos effective. 
 
 Happy Thought. — If I stay long here, buy a saddle, and 
 stirrups my own length. My weight, when he jogs, is too much 
 on one stirrup. 
 
 Fridoline asks, " Isn't this delightful ? " I say, " Charming " 
 Milburd talks of riding as a science. He says, " The great 
 thing in leaping is to keep your equilibrium.'' 
 
 H u'i'Y Thought. — The pummel. 
 
 ill we trot on?'' If we don't push along, Byng says we 
 shall never reach Pounder's Barrow, where the Harriers meet. 
 As it is, we shall probably be too late. 
 
 v) 
 
 Happv Thought. — PleMy of time. Needn't go too fast. 
 Tire the horses. < 
 
 My left antigropelo has come 
 undone. The spring is weak. 
 I can't get at it. My horse never 
 will go the same pace as the 
 others. The groom said his great 
 pace was trotting. He is 
 trotting, and it is a great 
 pace ; not so much for 
 speed, as for height. He 
 trots as if all his joints *..,,- 5. ." 
 
 were loose. His tril appears to be a little loose in the 
 socket, and keeps whisking round and round, judging from the 
 sound. I go up and down, and from side to side. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Are people ever sea-sick from riding? 
 
 No scientific riding here ! Can't get my equilibrium. Ought 
 to have had a string for my hat. Cram it on. I think, from 
 the horse's habit of looking back sideways, that* he's seen the 
 loose antigropelo, and it has frightened him. He breaks into 
 a gallop. It feels .as if he was always stumping on one 
 leg. He changes his leg, which unsettles me. He changes 
 his legs every minute. 'Wish I could change mine for a 
 pair of strong ones in comfortable boots and breeches. 
 Thank Heaven, I didn't have spurs ! Hope I shan't drop my 
 whip. This antigropelo will bring me off sooner or later, I 
 know it will. 
 

 s. '> 
 
 End of the lane. The three in front. I wish they'd stop. 
 Mine would stop then. We trot again — suddenly. Painful. 
 
 Happy Thought. — " Let's look at the view '. " 
 
 Byng cries, " Hang the view !— here's a beautiful bit of turf 
 for a canter." We break (my horse and I) into a canter. He 
 breaks into the canter sooner than I do, as I've not quite 
 finished my trot. I wish it was a military saddle, with bags 
 before and behind. A soldier can't come off. If the anti- 
 
 gropelo goes at the other spring, I shall lose it altogether 
 Horse pulls ; wants to pass them all. Hat getting loose ; anti- 
 gropelo flapping. 
 
 Happy Thihuht. — Squash my hat down anyhow, tight. 
 
 The fresh air catches my nose. I feel as if I'd a violent 
 cold. There's no comfort in riding at other people's pace. I 
 wish they'd stop. It's very unkind of them. They might as 
 welL I should stop for them. What a beast this is for pulling ! 
 I can't make him feel. 
 
"//(■ are getting towards a hedge. Happy thought. — Stop my horse: violently." 
 
Happy Thought. —If I ride again, have a short coat made, 
 without tails. 
 
 Everything about me seems to be flapping in the wind ; like 
 a scarecrow. Fridoline doesn't see me. What an uncomfort 
 able thing a hard note book is in a tailcoat pocket, when 
 cantering and bumping. 
 
 Happy Thought.— End of canter. Thank Heavens! he (or 
 she) stops when the others stop. 
 
 Fridoline looks round and laughs. She is in high spirits. 
 In an attempt to wave my whip to her with my right hand, I 
 nearly come that nasty cropper on the left side. Righted 
 myself by the mane quietly. What would a horse be without a 
 mane ? 
 
 Happy Thought. — The .hard road. Walk. Fasten my 
 antigropelo. Tear it at the top by trying the spring 
 excitedly. 
 
 Before talking to her I settle my hat and tie ; also manage 
 my pocket-handkerchief. Feel that I've got a red nose, and 
 don't look as " showy " as I did. On the common we fall in 
 with the Harriers, and men on horseback, in green coats. 
 
 Byng knows several people, and introduces them to Miss 
 Fridoline. He doesn't introduce me to any one. We pass 
 through a gate into a ploughed field. The dogs are scenting, 
 or something. I sec a rabbit. If I recollect rightly, one ought 
 to cry out " Holloa ! " or " Gone away ! " or " Yoicks ! "' If I 
 do, we shall all be galloping about, and hunting. 
 
 Happy Thought — Better not say anything about it It's 
 the dogs' business. 
 
 The dogs find something. Every one begins cantering. Just 
 as I am settling my hat, and putting my handkerchief into my 
 pocket, my horse breaks into a canter. Spring of antigropelo 
 out again. It is a long field, and I see we are all getting 
 towards a hedge. The dogs disappear. Green-coat men dis 
 appear over the hedge. I suddenly think of poor Parsons and 
 the nasty cropper. 
 
 Happy Thought.— Stop my horse : violently. 
 
 Our heads meet. Hat nearly off Everybody jumps the 
 hedge. Perhaps my horse won't do it. If I only had spurs 1 
 might take him at it. Some one gets a fall. He's on his own 
 horse. If he falls, I shall. He didn't hurt himself. 
 
 Happy Thought— You can fall and not hurt yourself. I 
 thought you always broke your neck, or leg. 
 
 HArpv Thought — Any gap? 
 
 None. Old gentleman, on a heavy grey, says, " No good 
 going after them. I know the country." Take his advice. If 
 
 I lose the sport, blame him 
 
Happy Thought. — Hares double : therefore (logically) the 
 hare will come back. 
 
 Happy Thought.— Stop in the field. 
 
 Try to fasten antigropelo : tear it more. Trot round quietly. 
 I'm getting well into my seat now. Shouldn't mind taking him 
 at the hedge. Too late, as they'll be back directly. I explain 
 to old gentleman who knows the country that " I don't like 
 
 in a ditch by the roadside. Old gentleman still angry. I am 
 told afterwards that he's one of the old school of sportsmen, 
 who, I suppose, don't cut at hares with a whip. 
 
 Happy Thought.— I am in at the death. Say " Tally ho ! " 
 to myself. 
 
 Happy Thought — Ask for a brush. If I get it, present it 
 to Fridoline. 
 
 -"t 
 
 
 leaping hired horses, or I should have taken him at that hedge." 
 Old gentleman thinks I'm quite right. So do I. They come 
 back : the hare first. I see him and cut at him with my whip. 
 Old gentleman very angry. I try to laugh it off. With the 
 dogs I ride through the gate. Capital fun. The hare is caught 
 
 Milburd laughs, and says he supposes I want a hare-brush. 
 
 It is a great thing to possess quick perceptive faculties. I 
 see at once that a hare has no brush, and treat the matter as 
 my own joke. [Note for Typical Developments, Book XVI., 
 " Perception of the Ridiculous."] 
 
^y 
 
 After looking about for another hare for half an hour, my 
 blood is not so much up as it was. We are "away" again. 
 The hare makes for the hill. We are galloping. I wish I'd 
 had my stirrups put right before I started. A shirt-button has 
 broken, and I feel my collar rucking up ; my tie working round. 
 I cram my hat on again. There's something hard projecting 
 out of the saddle, that hurts my knees. Woa ! He does pull. 
 I think we've leapt something; a ditch. If so, I can ride better 
 than I thought. What pleasure can a horse have in following 
 the hounds at this pace? Woa, woa ! My stirrup-straps are 
 flying ; my antigropelos on both sides have come undone ; my 
 breeches pinch my knees, my hat wants cramming on again. 
 In doing this I drop a rein. I clutch at it. I feel I am pulling 
 the martingale. Stop for a minute : I am so tired. No one 
 will stop. 
 
 Hapi'V Thought (at full gallop). — il You gentlemen of 
 England who live at home at ease, how little do you think 
 upon " the dangers of this infernal hunting. 
 
 Byng's whole-uncle is at home reading his Times. Up a hill 
 at a rush. Down a hill. Wind rushing at me. It makes me 
 gasp like going into a cold bath. Think my shirt-collar has 
 come undone on one side. 
 
 Happy Thought (which flashes a:r»>s me). Mazeppa 
 " Again he urges on his wild career : " Mazeppa was tied on, 
 though : I'm not. 
 
 I shall lose the antigropelos. 1 >own a hill. Up a hill slowly 
 The horse is walking, apparently, right out of his saddle. Will 
 he miss me? 
 
 Happy Thought. — 1 shall come off over his tail 
 
 I have an indistinct idea of horsemen careering all about 
 me. 1 wish some one would stop my horse. Suddenly we 
 all stop. I cannon against the old gentleman on the grey 
 Apology. He is very angry ; says " I might have killed him." 
 Pooh ! 
 
Happy Thought. — If this is .hunting, it isn't so difficult, 
 after all. But what's the pleasure ? 
 
 The hounds are scenting again. Stupid countryman says 
 he's seen a hare about here. Delight of everybody. All these 
 big men, horses, and dogs after a timid hare ! Why doesn't 
 the Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals interfere ? 1 
 thought they always shot hares. The dogs have got their tails 
 up, and are whining. They are unhappy. If they find a hare 
 they give that countryman a shilling. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Shall write to old Boodels, and tell him 
 I'm going out with the hounds every day. Wish I was at 
 home in an armchair. I've not come the " nasty cropper " as 
 yet ; but the day's not over. 
 
 Ask a countryman to fasten my antigropelos. Sixpence. Can 
 he alter my stirrups ? He does; not satisfactorily. The hounds 
 make a noise, and before the countryman has finished my stir- 
 rups, we are off. Nearly off altogether. I shan't come out 
 agaia Up another hill. This is part of the down country. 
 
 ^T 
 
" My horse is beginning to get tired. Era y one passes me. 
 
My horse is beginning to get tired 
 one passes me. 
 
 He'll go quieter. Every 
 
 Get on ' get up! Tchk I He is panting. C.et on ! tchk ! 
 I feel excited. I should like to be on a long way ahead, in 
 full cry, taking brooks, fences, and ditches. C.et on ! Get 
 along, toitt you ? tchk ' What an obstinate brute ' I think I 
 could take him over that first hedge now. I find my legs 
 kicking him. It has no effect. First tchking, then kicking ! 
 I'd give something to be at home. Dropped my rein ; in get- 
 ting it up, dropped my whip. 
 
 >■£.,«.-" 
 
 Some people standing about won't see it. Horses and hounds 
 a long way on. I think Milburd or Byng, as I'm his guest, 
 might have stopped for me. Very selfish. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Get off and pick it up. 
 
 If I get off I shall have to get up again Perhaps he won't 
 stand still. I am all alone ; every one has disappeared, except 
 a few pedestrians who have been watching the sport from the 
 top of this hill. Hate these sort of idle people who only come 
 out to see accidents and laugh at any one if he can't get on. 
 I haven't got the slightest idea as to where I am What 
 country ? How far from Byng's ? The horse seems to me to 
 be trembling, probably from excitement. He stretches his 
 head out. What power a horse has in his head ! he nearly 
 pulled me off. He shakes himself violently. Very uncom- 
 fortable. Perhaps he's rousing himself for another effort. I 
 have seen a "magic donkey" (I think) of pasteboard, in the 
 shop windows ; when the string is loose the head and tail fall. 
 It occurs to me that my horse is, at this minute, like the magic 
 donkey with the string loose. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Get off. 
 
 He is quivering in both his front legs. I feel it like a 
 running current of mild electric shocks. Get out my note 
 book. The beast seems to be giving at the knees. I don't 
 know much about horses, but instinct tells me he's going to lie 
 down. Wonder if he's ever been in a circus ? 
 
 >5 
 
Happy Thought. — Get off at once. 
 
 Off. Just in time. He nearly falls. He is shivering and 
 quivering all over. Poor fellow ! Woa, my man, woa, then, 
 poo' fellow ! I have got hold of his bridle at the bit. His eyes 
 are glaring at me : what the deuce is the matter with the 
 beast ? 
 
 Happy Thought. — Is he going mad ! ! ! 
 
 He pulls his head away from me — he jerks back : he pulls me 
 after him. I try to draw him towards me : he jerks back more 
 and more. His bit's coming out of his mouth. Is he going to 
 rear ? or kick ? or plunge ? or bite me ? What is the matter 
 with him ? Is there such a thing as a lunatic asylum for 
 horses ? 
 
 Happy Thought. — Ask some one to hold him. 
 
 Two pedestrians come towards me cautiously, an elderly 
 man in yellow gaiters, and a respectable person in black. 
 
 Horse snorts wildly, grunts, glares, shivers, jerks himself 
 back : I can't hold on much longer. If he runs away he'll 
 become a wild horse on the downs, and I shall have to pay for 
 him. Hold on. Apparently he's trying to run away back- 
 wards. 
 
 v; //>„ 
 
 V-|*r 
 
 Happy Thought. — Say to man in gaiters, very civilly, 
 " Would you mind holding my horse while I pick up my 
 whip ? " as if there was nothing the matter. He shakes his 
 head, grins, and keeps at a distance. In his opinion, the horse 
 has got the staggers. 
 
 The staggers ! Good heavens ! I ask him, " Do they last 
 long ? " 
 
 " Long time, generally," he answers. " Will he fall ? "' I ask. 
 " Most likely,'' he answers. " Then," I ask him, angrily, " why 
 the deuce he stands there doing nothing ? Why doesn't he get 
 a doctor? If he'll hold the beast for a minute, ///run to the 
 village for a doctor."' 
 
 He says, " There ain't no village nearer than Radsfort, six 
 
 16 
 
miles from here." Then I'll run six miles, if he'll only hold my 
 horse. He won't — obstinate fool : then what's he standing 
 looking at me for, and doing nothing ? He says he's as much 
 right to be on the downs as I have. The horse is getting 
 worse : he nearly falls. Ho ! hold up. He holds up convul- 
 sively, but shows an inclination to fall on his side and roll 
 down the hill, I haven't got the smallest idea what I should 
 do if he rolled down the hill. 
 
 Happy Thought (wkick strikes the person in black). — 
 Loosen his girths 
 
 Happv Thought {which strikes me). — Do it yourself. 
 
 He won't — the coward. He says he's afraid he'll kick. 
 Kick ! he won't kick, I tell him. I think I should feel the 
 same if I was in his place. I urge him to the work, explaining 
 that I would do it myself if I wasn't holding his head. He 
 makes short, nervous darts at the horse's girths, keeping his 
 eye on his nearer hind (eg. I encourage him, and say, •' Bravo, 
 capital ! " as if he was a bull-fighter. He loosens one girth. 
 Do the other : he won't. 
 
 Horse still shivering. Now he is dragging away from me, 
 and trying to get down-hill backwards, harder than ever. 
 " Staggers'' are like hysterics. What do you do to people in 
 hysterics? Cold water, vinegar— hit them on the palms of 
 their hands. Man behind a hedge, about a hundred yards 
 distant, who has been looking on in safety, halloes out some 
 advice unintelligibly. Why doesn't he come close up ? ! 
 hack irritably, ''What?" He repeats, evidently advl 
 
 unintelligible. It sounds like, " If you arshy booshy-marnsy- 
 goggo {unintelligible), you'll soon make him balshybalshy (un- 
 intelligible), ar.d then you can easily causheycoosheycaushey." 
 Why on earth can't he speak plainly ? 
 
 I can only return, irritably and excitedly shouting to him, 
 'Wha-a-at? What do you say ? "' He walks off in the opposite 
 direction. I ask, Who is that man ? Nobody knows. I should 
 like to have him taken up and flogged. No change in the 
 horse's symptoms. Where are Byng, Milburd, and the rest? 
 They must have missed me. I think they might have come 
 back. I say, bitterly, " Friendship ! " Confound the horse, 
 and the harriers, and everybody. Here, hold up ! 
 
 Another man comes up. Tall and thin, 
 he stands with the other two, and stares as 
 if it was an exhibition. If there is one 
 thing that makes me angry, it is idiots 
 staring, helplessly. The last idiot who has 
 come up has something to say on the sub- 
 ject. The horse is shaking, gasping ; I 
 know he'll fall. If he falls, I've heard cab- 
 men say in London, " Sit on his head." 
 
 Prospect. — Sitting on his head, in the 
 middle of the bleak downs, until somebody 
 comes who knows all about the staggers. I f 
 no one comes, sit on his head all night ! ! ! 
 
 Happi Thought {which suddenly occurs to the last comer) 
 Cut his tongue. 
 
 17 
 
Happy thought (which strikes fht person in black). — Loosen his girths' 
 
What good'll that do? "Relieve him,'' he replies. Then 
 do it. He says he won't undertake the responsibility. He has 
 got a penknife, and I may cut the tongue if I like. Cut his 
 tongue ! doesn't the man see I'm holding his head ?— I can't do 
 everything. He replies by mentioning some vein in the horse's 
 tongue, which if cut instantly cures the staggers. It appears 
 on inquiry that he doesn't know where the vein is. What help 
 less fools these country people are ! I thought country people 
 knew all about horses! What are they doing on the downs? 
 Nothing. Fools : I hate people who merely lounge about. 
 Will any one of them get a doctor ? As I ask this, the horse 
 nearly falls. A ploughboy arrives. 
 
 Happy Thought. — He shall hold the horse. 
 
 I ask him : he grins : what an ass ! I command him im- 
 periously to hold the horse. He says, in his dialect, that he 
 can't. " Why not ? " I ask. " What on earth can he be doing ? " 
 
 ^ I 
 
 He replies, " Moind'nruks." "What?" I bellow at him. 
 " Moind'nruks." His reply is interpreted to me by the yellow 
 gaiters — the boy is "minding rooks.'' The boy grins and 
 shows me an enormous horse-pistol with cap on, pointed, under 
 his arm, at me. The idea of trusting such an imbecile with a 
 pistol ! " Turn it the other way ! " He grins. " Tain't loaded." 
 He explains that they only give him a cap— no powder. 
 " Never mind, turn it the other way." 
 
 Happy Thought. — If the long thin man will hold my horse 
 while I go to Radsfort, I will give him half-a-sovereign. I 
 offer this diffidently, because he is such a respectable-looking 
 person. 
 
 Respectable looking person closes with the offer immediately. 
 Yellow gaiters and man in black propose to show me where the 
 village is : for money. 
 
 19 
 
Is this the noble English character that we read of in the 
 villages of our happy land ! ' Mercenary, dastardly, griping, 
 gaping fools and cowards, who've been delighting themselves 
 with my miseries for the last hour, merely to trade upon them 
 at the last. 
 
 Long man holds the horse. The beast just as bad as ever. 
 Don't care now : got rid of him. Feel that all the responsibility- 
 is on the long man. Wonder what the long man will do if be- 
 falls on his side. It's worth ten shillings to be free. 
 
 Miserable woik walking. Beginning to rain. 
 
 Man on horseback coming towards me. 
 
 Happy Thought. — Byng's groom I can imagine the de : 
 light of a shipwrecked man on a desert island on seeing some- 
 body he knows rowing towards him. He has come back to 
 look for me. He is on his master's horse, and the ladies and 
 his master are in the pony trap in the road just below, The 
 ladies ' 
 

 M , 
 
 /■fr 
 
 Happv Thought 
 
 __Be driven home 
 
 Soft cushions : tugs- 
 
" Byng's Groom. 
 
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