"
There were two stable-boys waiting and a pony long retired on grassy
pension. "Now," said Penhallow, "put a foot on my knee and up you go."
"But, there's no saddle."
"There are two. The Lord of horses put one on the back of a horse and
another under a man. Up! sir." John got on. "Grip him with your legs,
hold on to the mane if you like, but not by the reins." The pony feeling
no urgency to move stood still and nibbled the young grass. A smart tap
of the Squire's whip started him, and John rolled off.
"Come, sir, get on." The boys from the stable grinned. John set his
teeth. "Don't stiffen yourself. That's better."
He fell once again, and at the close of an hour his uncle said, "There
that will do for to-day, and not so bad either."
"I'd like to try it again, sir," gasped John.
"You young humbug," laughed Penhallow. "Go and console your distracted
aunt. I am off to the mills."
The ex-captain was merciless enough, and day after day John was so stiff
that, as he confessed to Leila, a jointed doll was a trifle to his
condition. She laughed, "I went through it once, but one day it came."
"What came, Leila?"
"Oh! the joy of the horse!"
"I shall never get to that." But he did, for the hard riding-master
scolded, smiled, praised, and when at last John sat in the saddle the
bareback lessons gave him a certain confidence.
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