172 THE HORSE AND HIS RIDER 



leathers in Mr. " Splasher's " saddle, I mounted that 

 most heavenly quadruped. I have often thought 

 since I must have been mad that morning. How- 

 ever, away we went over a vile, rotten, deep country, 

 apparently intersected with tremendous fences — for 

 a fixture they told me was " Cripple's Gorse " (true, 

 though ominous). Here I became quite a character, 

 and was approached by several of the Duke's friends, 

 who politely complimented me on my mount. 



' " Splendid jumper ! " said one. 



' " Swims like a shark," said another. 



' " Never was known to refiise,^^ remarked a 

 third. 



'"I'll lay you two glasses of ale at the next 

 public," said my friend Hieover, "that he spills you 

 at the first fence." 



' " Done ! " said I, like a man (and a fool). 



' The Splasher was a delightful contrast to his 

 stable companion from the infernal regions, being 

 with hounds in covert as placid, tractable, and — 

 curse him ! — as deceitful as Mr. Calcraft, who does 

 the last honours and loathsome of the Old Bailey ! 

 He ambled about with his head between his legs, 

 though not pulling in the least, with one eye fixed 

 constantly on yourself and the other on the look- 

 out for a fence. 



(■ " D n that hound ; he's going to find ! " I 



uttered, in agony to myself, as I heard a whimper in 

 the gorse ' that sounded like gospel,' as Will Danby 



