old such and such for so much, and here's the
money." That's all. Well, our rejections are worth having. They have
taken prizes at the Poona Horse Show. See for yourself. Is there one of
those that you wouldn't be glad to take for a hack, and look well after
too? Only they're no use to us, and so out they go by the score. We've
got sixty riding-boys, perhaps more, and they've got their work cut out
to keep them all going. What you've seen are only the stables. We've got
one stud at Bellara, eighty miles out, and they come in sometimes in
droves of three and four hundred from the stud. They raise Marwaris
there too, but that's entirely under native management. We've got
nothing to do with that. The natives reckon a Marwari the best
country-bred you can lay hands on; and some of them are beauties! Crests
on 'em like the top of a wave. Well, there's that stud and another stud
and, reckoning one with another, I should say the Maharaja has nearer
twelve hundred than a thousand horses of his own. For this place here,
two wagon-loads of grass come in every day from Marwar Junction. Lord
knows how many saddles and bridles we've got. I never counted. I suppose
we've about forty carriages, not counting the ones that get shabby and
are stacked in places in the city, as I suppose you've seen. We take 'em
out in the morning, a regular string altogether, brakes and all; but the
prettiest turn-out we ever turned out was Lady Dufferin's pony
four-in-hand. Walers--thirteen-two the wheelers, I think, and
thirteen-one the leaders. They took prizes in Poona. That _was_ a pretty
turn-out. The prettiest in India. Lady Dufferin, she drove it when the
Viceroy was down here last year. There are bicycles and tricycles in the
carriage department too. I don't know how many, but when the Viceroy's
camp was held, there was about one apiece for the gentlemen, with
remounts. They're somewhere about the place now, if you want to see
them. How do we manage to keep the horses so quiet? You'll find some o'
the youngsters play the goat a good deal when they come out o' stable,
but, as you say, there's no vice generally. It's this way. We don't
allow any curry-combs. If we did, the _saises_ would be wearing out
their brushes on the combs. It's all elbow-grease here. They've got to
go over the horses with their hands. They must handle 'em, and a native
he's afraid of a horse. Now an English groom, when a horse is doing the
fool, clips him over the head with a