HAND. 73 



been no less disreputable than his end was tragic, had 

 not 



" Lived by the saddle for years a score," 



to fail in his horsemanship at the finish, and so, when 

 he came to jump his last fence, negotiated it with no 

 less skill than daring grim, quiet, resolute, strong of 

 seat, and firm of hand. The latter quality seems, how- 

 ever, much the rarer of the two. For ten men who can 

 stick to the saddle like Centaurs you will hardly find 

 one gifted with that nicety of touch which horses so 

 willingly obey, and which, if not inborn, seems as diffi- 

 cult to acquire by practice as the draughtsman's eye 

 for outline, or the musician's ear for sound. Attention, 

 reflection, painstaking, and common sense, can, never- 

 theless, do much ; and, if the brain will only take the 

 trouble to think, the clumsiest fingers that ever mis- 

 managed a bridle may be taught in time to humour it 

 like a silken thread. 



I have been told, though I never tried the experi- 

 ment, that if you take bold chanticleer from his perch, 

 and, placing his bill on a table, draw from it a line 

 of chalk by candle-light, the poor dazed fowl makes 

 no attempt to stir from this imaginary bondage, per- 

 suaded that it is secured by a cord it has not strength 

 enough to break. We should never get on horseback 



