92 Cijt Carttr of a ^pur. 



but I next found myself, after laying neglected in 

 our saddle room for some dreary weeks, upon the 

 right heel of as saucy a little stable-boy as old 

 Curr3xomb, our studsman, ever cuffed. 



It was about Christmas-time, and he was riding 

 old •' Bones," the kennel pony, to see his friends at 

 the town in which I first saw the light, and with 

 regret I must record that I never set eyes upon 

 those dear old kennels again. Tom Straps was that 

 lad's name, and to a confounded little brother of his, 

 who was learning the '* butchering," was I by him 

 presented that very afternoon. I well remember the 

 little rascal, for although he was highly delighted 

 with me, I was — although I don't think he knew it — 

 proportionately disgusted with him ; nor do I hesitate 

 to assert that he'ate a great deal more plum pudding 

 than was good for him, and certainly imbibed too 

 freely from the long black bottle devoted to the 

 accommodation of currant wine. The indignities I 

 suffered for a time on his hob-nailed heel, and upside- 

 down, too, I do not care to dwell upon, still less to 

 describe the ungroomed, shambling hacks I reluct- 

 antly pricked along with such rowels as still were 

 mine. But in these days even — though I say it, 

 who, perhaps, should not — there must still have 

 been something fascinating about me, for within six 

 calendar months did not the rosy-cheeked, toddling 



