ked at him. There was a ring, known I believe as a Spanish ring, made
with a sharp little spike attachment, and used sometimes by circus-men to
stir up horses to a show of violence or of high spirits, and when a whip
was not permissible. It could be resorted to without arousing any
suspicion of cruelty, since the spike was on the under side and so out of
sight. The man with the ring on his finger would stand by a horse, and
resting his hand on the animal's neck, just at the most sensitive spot of
his whole anatomy--the root or end of his mane--would close the hand
suddenly, thus driving the spike into the flesh. It must have caused
exquisite pain, and naturally the tormented animal rears and plunges.
Sometimes they get effect enough by pricking the creatures on the
shoulder only. On that night, Mr. Miles, after gazing at the mild and
melancholy features of his new "Wild Horse of Tartary," went to his room
and dug up from some trunk a Spanish ring. Calling one of the men who
used to be dragged and thrashed about the stage by the black wild horse,
he explained to him its use, ending with: "I hate to hurt the old fellow,
so try him on the shoulder first, and if he dances about pretty lively,
as I think he will, you need not prick his mane at all."

The play moved along nicely, the house was large, and seemed pleased.
_Mazeppa_ fell into his enemy's hands, the sentence was pronounced, and
the order followed: "Bring forth the fiery, untamed steed!"

The women began to draw close to their escorts; many of them remembered
the biting, kicking entrance of the black, and were frightened
beforehand. The orchestra responded with incidental creepy music,
but--that was all. Over in the entrance, old Bob, surrounded by the four
men who were supposed to restrain him, stood calmly. But those who sat in
the left box heard "get-ups!" and "go-ons!" and the cluckings of many
tongues. The mighty Khan of Tartary (who could not see that entrance)
thought he had not been heard, and roared again: "Bring forth the fiery,
untamed steed!" Another pause, the house tittered, then some one hit old
Bob a crack across the rump with a whip, at which he gave a switch of his
tail and gently ambled on the stage, stopping of his own accord at
centre, and, lowering his head, he stretched his neck and sniffed at the
leader of the orchestra, precisely as a dog sniffs at a stranger. It was
deliciously ridiculous. We girls were supposed to scream with terror at
t