THE BARB AND THE BRIDLE. 77 



mother gave way. Her little daughter was put on a quiet horse, 

 and the master himself led him round the school at a walk, but 

 this by no means satisfied our ambitious little tyro. "Let me 

 trot," she said; "I am sure I can trot." The professor was quite 

 sure she could not, and told her so ; and, to convince her, he started 

 the horse trotting, and ran by his side. He was never more mis- 

 taken. The lessons the pupil had been witnessing from the gallery 

 must have made a strong impression on her mind ; for, to the 

 surprise of all of us, she caught the action of the horse at the 

 first step, and made the best attempt at trotting I ever saw for a 

 beginner. Feeling that trotting fatigued her, she asked to be 

 allowed to canter, and this she did in very good form. But the 

 crowning part of the thing was, that when we were about to take 

 her oif her horse, she begged to be allowed to have a jump. I 

 confess, I thought the riding master wrong in consenting to this. But 

 again our little friend electrified us all. A hurdle was put up, well 

 sloped, so as to make the jump a very moderate one, the little 

 pupil's hands placed, and her position rectified. No sooner had the 

 horse turned the corner of the school, and before the riding master 

 had time to check her, than the girl's eye lit up just as I had seen it 

 in the gallery. She caught the horse fast by the head, hit him with 

 her heel, put down her hands, and sat as though she had been 

 hunting for years. It was too late to stop her, and any interference 

 at the moment would have done more harm than good. With my 

 heart in my mouth, I saw the horse go at the hurdle. He was one 

 that had " an eye in every toe," and did not know how to make a 

 mistake. But his daring little rider had roused him thoroughly, 

 and he jumped high enough to clear a big fence, and far enough to 

 take him over a small brook. Just as the horse took off, I shouted 

 involuntarily, " Sit back ; " and the little enthusiast answered as 

 though my voice had been inspiration. Her lithe little figure was 

 bent from the waist, precisely at the right moment ; and she 

 landed safe, except that the concussion threw her slightly up in 

 the saddle. Her marvellous aptitude (talent the professionals 

 would have called it) induced the riding master to let her make 

 another attempt, and this time, putting her horse at the hurdle at 



