command, reins taken up in the left 'and with the second and little
fingers, and a lock of the 'orse's mane twisted round the first.
Mount! That 'orse ain't a _bicycle_, Mr. SNIGGERS. [_Mr. S._ (_in an
undertone._) No--worse luck!] Number off! Walk! I shall give the word
to trot directly, so now's the time to improve your seats--that back
a bit straighter, Mr. 'OOPER. No. 4, just fall out, and we'll let them
stirrup-leathers down another 'ole or two for yer. (_No. 4, who has
just been congratulating himself that his stirrups were conveniently
high, has to see them let down to a distance where he can just touch
them by stretching._) Now you're all comfortable. ["Oh, _are_ we?"
_from Mr. S._] Trot! Mr. TONGS, Sir, 'old that 'orse in--he's gettin'
away with you already. Very bad, Mr. JOGGLES, Sir--keep those 'eels
down! Lost your stirrup, Mr. JELLY? Never mind that--_feel_ for it,
Sir. I want you to be independent of the irons. I'm going to make
you ride without 'em presently. (_Mr. JELLY shivers in his saddle._)
Captin' CROPPER, Sir; if that Volunteer ridgment as you're goin' to be
the Major of sees you like you are now, on a field-day--they'll 'ave
to fall out to _larf_, Sir! (_Mr. CROPPER devoutly wishes he had been
less ingenuous as to his motive for practising his riding._) Now, Mr.
SNIGGERS, make that 'orse learn 'oo's the master! [Mr. S. "He _knows_,
the brute!"]

_Mrs. B.-K._ He's very rude to all the Class, except dear ROBERT--but
then ROBERT has such a nice easy seat.

_The R.M._ Mr. BILBOW-KAY, Sir, try and set a bit closer. Why, you
ain't no more 'old on that saddle than a stamp with the gum licked
off! Can-ter! _You_'re all right, Mr. JOGGLES--it's on'y his play; set
down on your saddle, Sir!... I didn't say on the ground!