Buckram had begun to fear he would have to place him in the
only remaining school for incurables, the 'bus. Hack-horse riders are
seldom great horsemen. The very fact of their being hack-horse riders shows
they are little accustomed to horses, or they would not give the fee-simple
of an animal for a few weeks' work.

'I've a wonderful clever little oss,' observed Mr. Buckram, as Sponge
returned with a slack-rein and a satisfied air on the late resolute
animal's back. '_Little_ I can 'ardly call 'im,' continued Mr. Buckram,
'only he's low; but you knows that the 'eight of an oss has nothin' to do
with his size. Now this is a perfect dray-oss in miniature. An 'Arrow gent,
lookin' at him t'other day christen'd him "Multum in Parvo." But though
he's so _ter-men_-dous strong, he has the knack o' goin', specially in
deep; and if you're not a-goin' to Sir Richard, but into some o' them
plough sheers (shires), I'd 'commend him to you.'

'Let's have a look at him,' replied Mr. Sponge, throwing his right leg over
Hercules' head and sliding from the saddle on to the ground, as if he were
alighting from the quietest shooting pony in the world.

All then was hurry, scurry, and scamper to get this second prodigy out.
Presently he appeared. Multum in Parvo certainly was all that Buckram
described him. A long, low, clean-headed, clean-necked, big-hocked,
chestnut, with a long tail, and great, large, flat white legs, without mark
or blemish upon them. Unlike Hercules, there was nothing indicative of vice
or mischief about him. Indeed, he was rather a sedate, meditative-looking
animal; and, instead of the watchful, arms'-length sort of way Leather and
Co. treated Hercules, they jerked and punched Parvo about as if he were a
cow.

Still Parvo had his foibles. He was a resolute, head-strong animal, that
would go his own way in spite of all the pulling and hauling in the world.
If he took it into his obstinate head to turn into a particular field, into
it he would be; or against the gate-post he would bump the rider's leg in a
way that would make him remember the difference of opinion between them.
His was not a fiery, hot-headed spirit, with object or reason for its
guide, but just a regular downright pig-headed sort of stupidity, that
nobody could account for. He had a mouth like a bull, and would walk clean
through a gate sometimes rather than be at the trouble of rising to leap
it; at other times he would hop over it like a bird. He