e of the horse, who, thoroughly disgusted at his
master's whole conduct, gave a significant shake of his head, and
shamming frightened (as both women and horses will do when only
cross), commenced a war-dance, which drove Argemone Lavington into
the porch, and gave the bewildered Lancelot an excuse for dashing
madly up the hill after his companions.

'What a horrible ugly face!' said Argemone to herself, 'but so
clever, and so unhappy!'

Blest pity! true mother of that graceless scamp, young Love, who is
ashamed of his real pedigree, and swears to this day that he is the
child of Venus!--the coxcomb!

* * * * *

[Here, for the sake of the reader, we omit, or rather postpone a
long dissertation on the famous Erototheogonic chorus of
Aristophanes's Birds, with illustrations taken from all earth and
heaven, from the Vedas and Proclus to Jacob Boehmen and Saint
Theresa.]

'The dichotomy of Lancelot's personality,' as the Germans would call
it, returned as he dashed on. His understanding was trying to ride,
while his spirit was left behind with Argemone. Hence loose reins
and a looser seat. He rolled about like a tipsy man, holding on, in
fact, far more by his spurs than by his knees, to the utter
infuriation of Shiver-the-timbers, who kicked and snorted over the
down like one of Mephistopheles's Demon-steeds. They had mounted
the hill--the deer fled before them in terror--they neared the park
palings. In the road beyond them the hounds were just killing their
fox, struggling and growling in fierce groups for the red gobbets of
fur, a panting, steaming ring of horses round them. Half a dozen
voices hailed him as he came up.

'Where have you been?' 'He'll tumble off!' 'He's had a fall!' 'No
he hasn't!' ''Ware hounds, man alive!' 'He'll break his neck!'

'He has broken it, at last!' shouted the colonel, as Shiver-the-
timbers rushed at the high pales, out of breath, and blind with
rage. Lancelot saw and heard nothing till he was awakened from his
dream by the long heave of the huge brute's shoulder, and the
maddening sensation of sweeping through the air over the fence. He
started, checked the curb, the horse threw up his head, fulfilling
his name by driving his knees like a battering-ram against the
pales--the top-bar bent like a withe, flew out into a hundred
splinters, and man and horse rolled over headlong into the hard
flint-road.

For one long sickening second Lanc