for which they all felt the most unmitigated disgust, following slowly at
their heels."

"Have you any horses," I repeated, "that have not been fed on Blat's
Food--horses that are, so to speak, on a diet?"

In the farthest stalls, hidden from the sunlight and the invigorating
infection of the day, two beasts were found with sunken chests and hollow
eyes, who took us safely to our destination on their hands and knees.

As you may suspect, I do not enjoy riding. There is, it is true, one saddle
horse in North Carolina that fears me. If time still spares him, that horse
I could ride with content. But I would rather trust myself on the top of a
wobbly step-ladder than up the sides of most horses. I am not quite of a
mind, however, with Samuel Richardson who owned a hobby-horse and rode on
his hearth-rug in the intervals of writing "Pamela." It is likely that when
he had rescued her from an adventure of more than usual danger--perhaps her
villainous master has been concealed in her closet--perhaps he has been
hiding beneath her bed--it is likely, having brought her safely off, the
author locked her in the buttery against a fresh attack. Then he felt, good
man, in need of exercise. So while he waits for tea and muffins, he leaps
upon his rocking-horse and prances off. As for the hobby-horse itself, I
have not heard whether it was of the usual nursery type, or whether it was
built in the likeness of the leather camels of a German steamship.

I need hardly say that these confessions of my cowardice are for your ear
alone. They must not get abroad to smirch me. If on a country walk I have
taken to my heels, you must not twit me with poltroonery. If you charge me
with such faint-heartedness while other persons are present, I'll deny it
flat. When I sit in the company of ladies at dinner, I dissemble my true
nature, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat.
If then, you taunt me, for want of a better escape, I shall turn it to a
jest. I shall engage the table flippantly: Hear how preposterously the
fellow talks!--he jests to satisfy a grudge. In appearance I am whole as
the marble, founded as a rock.

But really some of us cowards are diverting persons. The lady who directed
me against the cow is a most delightful woman with whom I hope I shall
again sit at dinner. A witty lady of my acquaintance shivers when a
cat walks in the room. A man with whom I pass the time pleasantly and
profitably, although h