The Horse, as Comrade and Friend 



of the most piquant and intimate nature quite 

 personal to herself. It is a wicked, wicked 

 shame, and it is her own special friend who 

 thus robs her of the fruits of her self-surrender. 

 With them to think is to act. Each goes 

 for the other's forelegs, and down they both 

 drop on their knees. The bites really are not 

 gentle. The woolly little beasts are making 

 each other's fur fly. They spring up, go for 

 each other's forelegs, and again they are down 

 on their knees, grabbing with vigour and much 

 mingling of manes. Simultaneously they 

 arise, rear, and spar at each other at a distance ; 

 then, with open mouths, close, each with her 

 forelegs round the other's neck. They bite, 

 and bite again, in earnest. As background to 

 this orgy of mis-directed energy is the third 

 little lady, following the swaying of the com- 

 batants with startled eyes, and still further 

 behind, with wondering countenances, the 

 little gelding and donkey stand set for flight, 

 in case of untoward developments coming 

 their way. That anything so little could be 

 so furious, is what is passing in Disciple's mind, 

 as he regards his lady loves with pricked ears 

 and the most rapt attention. He is visibly 

 pained, and gives a stamp or two to show his 

 annoyance, when, before, all in the garden had 

 been so lovely. They go down and rise again, 

 but, faihng to clinch, they turn round and 

 indulge in the most unholy kicking match. 



139 



