One gentleman, in a bran-new scarlet, mounted on a flourishing
piebald, late the property of Mr. Batty, stood pawing and fighting the air,
as if in the saw-dust circle, his unfortunate rider clinging round his
neck, expecting to have the beast back over upon him. Another little wiry
chestnut, with abundance of rings, racing martingale, and tackle generally,
just turned tail on the crowd and ran off home as hard as ever he could lay
legs to the ground; while a good steady bay cob, with a barrel like a butt,
and a tail like a hearth-brush, having selected the muddiest, dirtiest
place he could find, deliberately proceeded to lie down, to the horror of
his rider, Captain Greatgun, of the royal navy, who, feeling himself
suddenly touch mother earth, thought he was going to be swallowed up alive,
and was only awoke from the delusion by the shouts of the foot people,
telling him to get clear of his horse before he began to roll.
[Illustration]
Hercules would fain have joined the truant set, and, at the first
commotion, up went his great back, and down went his ears, with a single
lash out behind that meant mischief, but Mr.
Pages:
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116