roads ahead." Yet we never found those bad roads. We seemed always to
be just ahead of them or behind them. The farther we came the better the
roads seemed, though this was probably due to the fact that we were
learning more and more what four horses and a light rig could do on a
road. And thus do I save my face with all the counties. I refuse to
make invidious road comparisons. I can add that while, save in rare
instances on steep pitches, I have trotted my horses down all the grades,
I have never had one horse fall down nor have I had to send the rig to a
blacksmith shop for repairs.

Also, I am learning to throw leather. If any tyro thinks it is easy to
take a short-handled, long-lashed whip, and throw the end of that lash
just where he wants it, let him put on automobile goggles and try it. On
reconsideration, I would suggest the substitution of a wire fencing-mask
for the goggles. For days I looked at that whip. It fascinated me, and
the fascination was composed mostly of fear. At my first attempt,
Charmian and Nakata became afflicted with the same sort of fascination,
and for a long time afterward, whenever they saw me reach for the whip,
they closed their eyes and shielded their heads with their arms.

Here's the problem. Instead of pulling honestly, Prince is lagging back
and manoeuvring for a bite at Milda's neck. I have four reins in my
hands. I must put these four reins into my left hand, properly gather
the whip handle and the bight of the lash in my right hand, and throw
that lash past Maid without striking her and into Prince. If the lash
strikes Maid, her thoroughbredness will go up in the air, and I'll have a
case of horse hysteria on my hands for the next half hour. But follow.
The whole problem is not yet stated. Suppose that I miss Maid and reach
the intended target. The instant the lash cracks, the four horses jump,
Prince most of all, and his jump, with spread wicked teeth, is for the