THE REV. JOHN RUSSELL. iii 



that seemed only fit for a dog-kennel ; he was 



black as ink, had no hair on mane or tail, 



and scarcely an ounce of iiesh on his bones ; 

 for, literally, 



" His strutting- ribs on both sides show'd 

 Like furrows he himself had plow'd ; 

 For underneath the skirt of pannel, 

 'Twixt every two there was a channel." 



Above all, an old-fashioned post-boy's saddle, 

 brass-mounted and secured by a huge crupper 

 to his rat-tail, formed a conspicuous feature on 

 the garran's back ; and that, coupled with his 

 poster-like appearance, was quite enough to stir 

 up first a titter, then a roar of laughter, as it 

 quickly did, among the lookers-on. 



Never, perhaps, was lover placed in a more 

 trying predicament ; the shafts of ridicule being 

 the most fatal of all weapons to a man bidding 

 for promotion, if he is made the unhappy butt 

 at which they are aimed. Many a hero, with 

 courage enough to head a Balaclava charge and 

 face the deadliest foe, would have shuddered to 

 mount that beast under existing circumstances, 

 and would certainly have darted oft in search 

 of another charger less picturesque in his points, 

 and more befitting the light brigade assembled 

 in Milsom Street on that eventful morn. Com- 

 paring their steeds with his own, he might well 

 have thought that the companionship of such a 

 Rosinante would not only compromise his own 



