IN THE HIDING-SCHOOL. 55 



about half a circuit, you think that human 

 beings have their little troubles also, and you 

 feel a suspicion of sarcasm in your master's 

 gentle : " You need not do French trot any 

 longer, unless you like. It will be easier for 

 you to rise." 



You give a frantic hop in your stirrup at the 

 wrong minute, and begin a series of jumps in 

 which you and the horse rise on alternate beats, 

 by which means your saddle receives twice as 

 much pounding as at first, and then you have 

 breath enough left to gasp " Stop," and in a 

 second you are walking along quietly, and your 

 master is saying in a matter-of-fact way : " You 

 would better keep your left heel clown all the 

 time, and turn the toe toward the horse's side 

 and keep your right foot and leg close to the 

 saddle below the knee ; swing yourself up and 

 down as a man does ; don't drop like a lump of 

 lead." 



" Like a snowflake," you murmur, for you 

 fancy that you have a pretty wit like Will 

 Honeycomb. 



"Not at all," says your master. "The snow- 

 flake comes down because it must, and comes to 



