" Tongs on a Wall'' 23 



The cowboy who can defy the bucking broncho 

 will be unseated by a two-year-old which any 

 racing-stable boy can stick to, while this same 

 boy would hardly sit the third stiff boost of the 

 ragged, grass-fed pony. The best horseman of 

 the desert would be nowhere in the hunting field. 

 The cavalryman who, with a few of his fellows, 

 can carve his way through a column of infantry, 

 may not be able to compete at polo with a New- 

 port swell. The jockey who will ride over five 

 and a half feet of timber or twenty feet of water 

 would make sorry work in pulling down a lassoed 

 steer. Each one in his element is by far the su- 

 perior of the other, but none of these is just the 

 type of horseman whom the denizen of our busy 

 cities, for his daily enjoyment, cares to make his 

 pattern. 



The original barbarian, no doubt, clasped his 

 undersized mount with all the legs he had, as 

 every natural rider does to-day. When saddle 

 and stirrups came into use, followed anon by 

 spurs, discretion soon taught the grip with knee 

 and thigh alone, the heels being kept for other 

 purposes than support. It must, however, be set 

 down to the credit of the original barbarian that 

 he probably did not ride in the style known as 

 " tongs on a wall." This certainly not admirable 

 seat originated with the knight in heavy armor, 

 and has since been adhered to by many nations, 



