32 How I Became a Sportsman. 



about twelve and a half hands high, with a coat 

 as long as a billy-goat, cat-hammed or goose- 

 rumped, but with a small, thoroughbred-look- 

 ing head, which was quite grey from age, long 

 sloping shoulders, and with legs like iron bars, 

 as clean as the day he was foaled. 



I begged hard of my father to let me have a 

 ride at once, but he was inexorable, and sent 

 me off to school (he might as well have let 

 me stop at home for all I learnt), but promised 

 he would take me out the next day, which 

 happened to be the Saturday half-holiday. He 

 duly fulfilled his promise, but, much to my 

 disgust, he took me out with a leading-rein, no 

 doubt having his own suspicions of what the 

 little rough-looking beggar might be up to. 

 I got him at last to unbuckle the leading-rein, 

 and we got on very well, with the exception of 

 his nearly pulling my arms off. All he wanted 

 to do was to go, and go he would, and did, 

 in which I was equally willing to accommodate 

 him. I found the pony, notwithstanding his 

 rough coat and unpromising appearance, in 

 good condition, as his late owner, no doubt 

 from constantly taking long journeys with him, 

 gave him plenty of corn. I very soon began 



