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VICIOUS HORSES. 
By Harry Hieover. 
KICKING IN HARNESS. 
SOME people may wonder, if a horse is put into harness, that 
he should sometimes kick. I, on the contrary, give him credit for 
great docility, if, on his first essay, he does not invariably do so. 
I would ask such persons if, during their walks, they never find 
a wheelbarrow being driven close on their heels, or a boy’s hoop 
driven against their persons : if so, 1 think I will answer for it 
that on the former occurrence the first thing they did was to step 
out of its way; and on the latter occasion, let me ask any hasty 
man, or indeed a cool one, if he never gave the hoop a kick. I 
know I have done so, and thereby accelerated its quondam pace 
most amazingly. Now, why does a person not kick at the wheel¬ 
barrow as well as the hoop ] For a very good reason. A wheel¬ 
barrow is rather an awkward customer to play at kick-shins with. 
We know it, and prudently get away from any encounter with it. 
But with the hoop it is a different affair; we there can make the 
greater impression, so we shew our magnanimous courage where 
we know we cannot be hurt by doing so. I am sorry that truth 
compels me to acknowledge that boasted man often shews the 
same all-to-be-admired magnanimity and daring courage on many 
occasions in life, as well as in encounters with Billy’s hoop. 
Now, getting out of the way of the barrow I hold to be tanta¬ 
mount to a horse running away with (or, as he hopes, from) a 
carriage. “ Yes,” a person may say, “ but I do not run away 
from the barrow.’’ I know you do not, for a very simple reason, 
the barrow only comes at a pace that a walk or a step aside takes 
you out of its way. But we will suppose it driven by a very ath¬ 
letic fellow, along the narrow passage leading from Curzon Street 
to Hay Hill, at the rate of eight miles an hour; I will answer for 
it, you would accelerate your pace at go-like-bricks till you got to 
the steps. Arrived in safety there, if you are made of a good bit 
of stuff, you may (the barrow having stopped, for there was no 
resisting that), go back and give, or attempt to give, the fellow a 
thrashing for his impudence. If you are not of this game sort, 
you throw up your eyes, get your breath, thank Providence for 
his mercy, and walk off. But game or not game, the barrow will 
beat you when in full career, take my word for it; if you will not, 
try the experiment. 
But we are not here on the subject of running away, though I 
have perhaps been doing so from my text, so we will return to 
kicking. 
