My First Poxy. 21 



fine piece of short turf, as smooth as a lawn, 

 except near the watercourse, where in soft 

 places a few rushes grew. I had often tried 

 a sweet little canter on this piece of turf, 

 and one day, when I had duly accomplished 

 my usual canter, and being elated thereat, I 

 thought I would try a bit of a jump, and 

 trotted gaily up to the (what I was pleased 

 to fancy and call) brook. The old fellow 

 made a slight pause, which I had not antici- 

 pated, and over I shot on the other side. 

 I made a complete somersault, and landed on 

 my feet. No sooner was I there than he was 

 by my side ; he had had no idea of refusing, 

 but in my anxiety to get to the other side I 

 was a little too quick for him. I looked about 

 to see if anybody was looking, but I had the 

 performance all to myself. I had, however, to 

 lead him to the nearest farm-house to get put 

 on again ; however, I said nothing about it 

 when I got home, thinking perhaps that my 

 rides by myself might have had a sudden 

 check. This I think was about the only time 

 that I was ever clean thrown from a horse, 

 though I have had hundreds of falls (every 

 man who rides close to hounds must get more 



