THE SPOTTED HORSE's STORY. 177 



positions is indeed wonderful. How I should 

 have accepted such an anecdote the day before I 

 do not know, but now I only smiled feebly at the 

 story which Packenham related of his brother's 

 horse, Thunderbolt, whose approaching defeat the 

 narrator had foreseen on a recent occasion by a 

 proceeding on the animal's part which seemed to 

 me simply marvellous. " We did get over the 

 w^ater-jump," Packenham explained; ^^hut then 

 he dropped his hind legs, and I felt that he was 

 done with for that journey at any rate." That 

 he was not done with for all subsequent journeys 

 — except the long one to the grave — seemed to 

 me a most valuable record of the progress of 

 veterinary science. 



" Over the bank, and then to the left down 

 the hill, and round here to the brook," Forester 

 continued. 



And Dacre, a soft little man with flaxen hair 

 and blue eyes, who looked more suitable for a 

 Shetland pony than a racehorse, feebly expressed 

 an opinion that the stream was a great deal too 

 big, and he really didn't see how he was to get 

 over more than half of it at a time. 



''It is a big place," Packenham admitted. 



" It's what poor C used to say was 'like a 



family vault — when you once get in, yon don't 

 get out again in a hurry.' " 



12 



