GOOD HORSES AND FRAUDS 157 



elbow out through the flesh before he got clear — 

 the third roll the horn of my saddle grazed my 

 nose, and I could not stir to get away. 



I was dreadfully shaken, but out again in about 

 three weeks in the stone-wall country, where the 

 brute kicked back at a double stone wall, missed it 

 and turned over. This was an easy fall apparently, 

 but he hit my head against an ant-heap and after 

 I had got up, I fell off again unconscious with bad 

 concussion. 



That bay hunter broke my nerve completely. 

 He was always on his head or his side, always 

 floundering until he made me hate to ride at a 

 fence. I lost interest in hounds. I was always 

 wondering when the next fence would come. 

 Fortunately I sold him before the next season, 

 and I beheve he did quite well in England over a 

 small fly country and won two point-to-points. 



I bought the horse of my life then, old Blackie. 

 You can see his picture. He crossed his legs as he 

 galloped and no one would buy him, also he was 

 a savage in the stable and a notorious buckjumper. 



Poor old man. I hired him for a day and then 

 for a month, and paid twenty-seven pounds for 

 him. Up to fourteen seven, the fastest cocktail I 

 have ever ridden and after a year absolutely 

 gentle and perfect mannered. Always on his toes 

 after the longest hunt, and falls were not part of 

 his world. High or blind it was all the same to the 

 old man. He used to bite us all in the stable at 



