t, but he also now turned
his horse's head, and throwing the lasso-line across his shoulder, set
off at the top of his speed across the plain.

That was something like a gallop! The heavy wild beast was constrained
to run a race with the swiftest of steeds. The cord was pressing tightly
round its neck, and blindly, helter-skelter, it had to go in a perfectly
straight direction till it dropped.

The youth galloped with it straight towards the racecourse, and then
suddenly sprang to one side. The bull bounded away right on, and now the
horse remained behind, while the bull flew on in front. By this time it
had lost all count of where it was.

The horseman now drew forth his long whip, and began to cut and lash out
from behind at the bull, which rushed on even quicker and quicker. The
trampling of the horse's hoofs, the cracking of the whip, the shouting
of the people, confused it into utter stupidity. It could only run on
and on, the blood trickling from its nose and mouth, its whole front
flaked with foam, its tongue lolling forth, till, on reaching the
racecourse, which was covered with a roaring mob, its strong legs gave
way beneath it, and, unable to hold itself up any longer, it collapsed
in a ditch, and, rolling a good distance, rooted up the ground with its
snout, then stretched itself out at full length on the sward, and ceased
to breathe.

Shouting and huzzahing, the mob escorted the new Whitsun King along all
the streets of the town, for he was in duty bound to stop before the
houses of the chief magistrate and town councillors, and there drink
their healths in a good bumper, which admirable custom goes to prove
that the Whitsun King had need to be not merely a good runner, but a
good drinker too; and this latter quality was all the more necessary,
owing to the circumstance that, when he had done with the rest of them,
he had, last of all, to go up to John Karpathy's castle in the company
of all the sworn jurors, and drink again there.

Now, when the sworn jurors brought in the new Whitsun King to introduce
him to Squire John, the great man ordered every one to leave the room
incontinently, so that they two might be quite alone together.

Master Jock was sitting in an armchair, with his feet in a large tub of
water, chewing a couple of bitter almonds. All this was by way of
preparation for the evening's debauch.

"What is your name, little brother?" he inquired of the Whitsun King.

"Michael Kis, at you