himself to the business on any terms, and bolts on principle; while
the rider of the black horse remains in stationary meditation_.) Go
on--that black horse--go on! (_The chestnut is at length brought up
to the scratch snorting, but again flinches, and retires with his
rider_.)

_The Crowd_ (_to rider of black horse_). Go on, now's your chance!
'It him! (_The recipient of these counsels pursues his antagonist, and
belabours him and his horse with impartial good-will until separated
by the Umpires, who examine the chalk-marks with a professional
scrutiny._)

_The Judge_. Here, you on the black horse, you mustn't hit that
other horse about the head. (_The man addressed appears rebuked and
surprised under his black-wired visor; The Judge, reassuringly_.)
It's all _right_, you know; only, don't do it again, that's all! (_The
Combatant sits up again._)

_The Gushing Lady_. Oh, I can't bear to look on, really. I'm _sure_
they oughtn't to hit so hard--_how_ their poor dear heads must ache!
Isn't that chestnut a _duck_? I'm sure he's trying to save his master
from getting hurt--they're such sensible creatures, horses are!
(_Artillery teams drive in, and gallop between the posts; the Crowd
going frantic with delight when the posts remain upright, and roaring
with laughter when one is knocked over_.)

DURING THE MUSICAL RIDE.

_The Gushing Lady_. Oh, they're simply too _sweet_! how those horses
are enjoying it--aren't they pets? and how perfectly they keep step