258 Memoirs of John Shipp. [Marcu, 
« ¢ Bravo, Sir, that’s better—fuster.’ 
«Sergeant! I am sick, sergeant!’ 
“* « Never mind such trifles, Sir ; riding is an excellent remedy for all kinds 
of sickness. Now, recollect, in changing from one to two, you round the 
horse’s croup well, by applying your right leg to his flank, and take care he 
does not kick you off—Change from one to two.’ : 
« ¢« Halt, Sir: halt! that won’t do: what the devil are you about? . That's . 
the wrong way ; I told you from one to two: turn your horse about from one | 
to two.’ 
«TJ can only just see the top of the riding-school—I can see no figures at 
all, sergeant.’ 
** Well, Sir, we'll dispense with this for the present; but soldiers should 
learn to turn their eyes every where. Suppose we have another march, Sir. 
March—trot—faster—faster ; very well, indeed. Now, Sir, you must recol- 
lect, when I say the word halt, that you pull your horse smartly up, by - 
throwing your body well back, and pressing the calves (if any) of your legs 
to his side. If you don’t keep your body upright, the horse’s head will soon 
put it in its proper place. Faster—a little faster—halt. There, Sir, I told 
te bes would be the consequence of your not keeping your head pro- 
perly up! . 
«Stop, stop; my nose bleeds, my nose bleeds !’ ' 
“© Rough-rider, get a bucket of water for the gemman. You had better 
dismount, Sir.’ 
“« Dismount, sergeant? How am I to get off this great beast ?’ 
«“« Why, jump, Sir, to be sure—jump off. Come, Sir, we cannot wait all 
day ; you delay the whole drill. Come, come, Sir, dismount!’ 
‘©* Put your hand on the horse’s rump, and lay fast hold of his mane,’ 
cries a young officer, who had just surmounted the same difficulties, “ and 
you will soon be off.’ The tyro in riding follows this friendly advice, and 
finds himself neatly floored by a tremendous plunge of the horse, thus finishing 
his first day’s drill. : 
“The next morning the pupil attends the riding-school, with his nose some- 
what embellished by his fall. He enters the school with his—‘ Good morn- 
ing, sergeant ;’ for it is always good policy to keep friends with both riding- 
masters and rough-riders. ‘ Good morning, Sir,’ says the sergeant; ‘ IT hope 
you did not hurt yourself yesterday.’ 
“ «Oh, no—oh, no! Mere scratch—mere scratch—not worth mentioning.’ 
««« Glad to hear it, Sir. We must expect in the army both scratches and 
falls. I have ordered you, for to-day, a horse somewhat more spirited, that | 
will jump under you like an antelope.’ 
*°« Much obliged to you, indeed,’ says the pupil, making a tremendous wry 
face. 
«©* Oh, don’t mention the obligation, Sir. It is my duty to make a good 
rider of you, and I flatter myself that I have turned out some of the best 
riders from this school that are to be found in the kingdom, and with as few 
accidents as could reasonably have been expected ; though, of course, casual- 
ties will sometimes inevitably happen, in a large academy like this. To be 
sure, continues the sergeant, winking at the rest of the party assembled, 
‘ there was poor Cornet Shins, who broke his neck, and, by the by, off the 
very horse you are going to ride to-day ; but that, of course, was no fault of 
the poor animal’s. Then, there was Lieutenant Stew, who broke his thigh, 
and a few other trifling circumstances of this kind, which make good for the 
army. 
“© Good for the army! How do you make that out?’ ¥ 
*« « Why, Sir, itis as plain as the eighteen manceuvres. We will just sup- 
pose, for the sake of argument, that your neck is broken this morning.’ 
«<« My good sergeant, what are you talking about?’ 
“©T am only supposing, you understand, that your neck was broken ; in 
which case it must be clear to you that you would make room for another : 
but come, Sir, we must proceed to business! Prepare to mount—ynount— 
steady there—not an eye or muscle to move—pray, Sir, keep your horse 
. 
