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fellow, dressed in velveteen, mounted on a low powerful-looking animal. “My cob shall trot against him to the hill and back again⁠—come on!” We both started; the cob kept up gallantly against the horse for about half the way to the hill, when he began to lose ground; at the foot of the hill he was about fifteen yards behind. Whereupon I turned slowly and waited for him. We then set off towards the house, but now the cob had no chance, being at least twenty yards behind when I reached the door. This running of horses, the wild uncouth forms around me, and the ale and beer which were being guzzled from pots and flagons, put me wonderfully in mind of the ancient horse-races of the heathen north. I almost imagined myself Gunnar of Hlitharend at the race of ⸻.

“Are you satisfied?” said the landlord. “Didn’t you tell me that he could leap?” I demanded. “I am told he can,” said the landlord; “but I can’t consent that he should be tried in that way, as he might be damaged.” “That’s right!” said Mr. Petulengro, “don’t trust my pal to leap that horse, he’ll merely fling him down, and break his neck and his own. There’s a better man than he close by; let him get on his back and leap him.” “You mean yourself, I suppose,” said the landlord. “Well, I call that talking modestly, and nothing becomes a young man more than modesty.” “It a’n’t I, daddy,” said Mr. Petulengro. “Here’s the man,” said he, pointing to Tawno. “Here’s the horse-leaper of the world!” “You mean the horseback breaker,” said the landlord. “That big fellow would break down my cousin’s horse.” “Why, he weighs only sixteen stone,” said Mr. Petulengro. “And his sixteen stone, with his way of handling a horse, does not press so much as any other one’s thirteen. Only let him get on the horse’s back, and you’ll see what he can do!” “No,” said the landlord, “it won’t do.” Whereupon Mr. Petulengro became very much excited, and pulling out a handful of money, said: “I’ll tell you what, I’ll forfeit these guineas, if my black pal there does the horse any kind of damage; duck me in the horse-pond if I don’t.” “Well,” said the landlord, “for the sport of the thing I consent, so let your white pal get down, and your black pal mount as soon as he pleases.” I felt rather mortified at Mr. Petulengro’s interference, and showed no disposition to quit my seat; whereupon he came up to me and said: “Now, brother, do get out of the saddle⁠—you are no bad hand at trotting, I am willing to acknowledge that; but at leaping a horse there is no one like Tawno. Let every dog be praised for his own gift. You have been showing off in your line for the last half-hour; now do give Tawno a chance of exhibiting a little; poor fellow, he hasn’t often a chance of exhibiting, as his wife keeps him so much out of sight.” Not wishing to appear desirous of engrossing the public attention, and feeling rather desirous to see how Tawno, of whose exploits in leaping horses I had frequently heard, would acquit himself in the affair, I at length dismounted, and Tawno at a bound, leaped into the saddle, where he really looked like Gunnar of Hlitharend, save and except the complexion of Gunnar was florid, whereas that of Tawno was of nearly Mulatto darkness; and that all Tawno’s features were cast in the Grecian model, whereas Gunnar had a snub nose. “There’s a leaping-bar behind the house,” said the landlord. “Leaping-bar!” said Mr. Petulengro scornfully. “Do you think my black pal ever rides at a leaping-bar? No more than at a windle-straw. Leap over that meadow-wall, Tawno.” Just past the house, in the direction in which I had been trotting, was a wall about four feet high, beyond which was a small meadow. Tawno rode the horse gently up to the wall, permitted him to look over, then backed him for about ten yards, and pressing his calves against the horse’s sides, he loosed the rein, and the horse launching forward, took the leap in gallant style. “Well done, man and horse!” said Mr. Petulengro; “now come back, Tawno.” The leap from the side of the meadow was, however, somewhat higher; and the horse, when pushed at it, at first turned away; whereupon Tawno backed him to a greater distance, pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild cry; whereupon the horse again took the wall, slightly grazing one of his legs against it. “A near thing,” said the landlord, “but a good leap. Now, no more leaping, so long as I have control over the animal.” The horse was then led back to the stable; and the landlord, myself and companions going into the bar, I paid down the money for the horse.

Scarcely was the bargain concluded, when two or three of the company began to envy me the possession of the horse, and forcing their way into the bar, with much noise and clamour, said that the horse had been sold too cheap. One fellow, in particular, with a red waistcoat, the son of a wealthy farmer, said that if he had but known that the horse had been so good a one, he would have bought it at the first price asked for it, which he was now willing to pay, that is tomorrow, supposing⁠—“supposing your father will let you have the money,” said the landlord, “which, after all, might not be the case, but, however that may be, it is too late now. I think myself the horse has been sold for too little money, but if so, all the better for the young man, who came forward when no other body did with his money in his hand. There, take yourselves out of my bar,” said he to

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