1 86 In Sca7'Iet and Silk 



Memories of riding one's first steeplechase 

 are, I should say, hardly satisfactory ones as 

 a rule. Nor is this to be wondered at. The 

 whole of the surroundings are strange to us, 

 the noise of the race-course, the rush of the 

 horses at their fences, the increased pace 

 above that required for hunting, and the 

 anxiety to win — all these things and a dozen 

 others that do not occur to me at the moment 

 of writino; tend to confuse and agitate one. 

 And, again, the novice is presumably very 

 young, perhaps only a boy, and in such case 

 the nerves are peculiarly susceptible and liable 

 to easy disarrangement. Half-a-dozen rides 

 in public will probably cure all this, but those 

 half-dozen are hardly pleasurable ones to the 

 generality of beginners. Such experiences 

 might be mostly set to the music of " 'E 

 dunno where 'e are ! " 



One of the worst dangers, in my humble 

 opinion, is that of collision, and everybody 

 knows what a little thing in that line suffices 

 to "upset the apple cart." It is always, 

 therefore, good policy to jump even the 



