144 SKETCHES IN THE HUNTING FIELD. 



— a popular tavern much affected by youths from 

 Brookley's training stables, from Scratton the dealer's, 

 &:c., and to ride off here and have a pint of ale and a 

 chat about races to come was much better fun than 

 carrying the letters to the post. 



But the letters had to be taken of course, and Bill 

 was always ready to take them. His only means of 

 locomotion was a certain pony. Kicking Peggy by 

 name, an unamiable beast that lived at the tarm, and 

 was accustomed to drag a mowing machine about the 

 lawn, to run in a trap for odd jobs, and was not only 

 quite unaccustomed, but entirely indisposed, to carry 

 anybody on her back. A bridle was obtainable, but no 

 saddle was to be had, and on Kicking Peggy's bare 

 back — with intervals when he could not manage to 

 retain that precarious position — Bill made an almost 

 nightly journey to the town. Once or twice Peggy got 

 away during the trip, after depositing her rider in a ditch 

 or on the road, and had it not been for a convenient lift 

 in a passing trap Sir Henrj^'s letters would have been 

 late for the post. 



On Kicking Peggy, however, young Bill learnt very 

 thoroughly the difficult art of sitting tight, and after a 

 few expeditions, even if when the start took place 

 some mischievously jocular friend touched the pony up 

 with a whip and sent her kicking and plunging down 

 the road. Bill kept his seat. 



In time he acquired quite a reputation for his skill, 

 and with many attempts was at times successful in 



