that every eye was fixed on them; the horses -- the vainest creatures
in the world -- arching their necks and lifting their feet,
whizzed past in bewildering succession, till the onlookers grew giddy.
Inside the whirling circle blood stallions stood on their hind legs,
screaming defiance to the world at large; great shaggy-fronted bulls,
with dull vindictive eyes, paced along, looking as though they were trying
to remember who it was that struck them last. A showground bull
always seems to be nursing a grievance.

Mixed up with the stallions and bulls were dogs and donkeys.
The dogs were led by attendants, apparently selected on the principle
of the larger the dog the smaller the custodian; while the donkeys
were the only creatures unmoved by their surroundings,
for they slept peaceably through the procession, occasionally waking up
to bray their sense of boredom.

In the centre of the ring a few lady-riders, stern-featured women
for the most part, were being "judged" by a trembling official,
who feared to look them in the face, but hurriedly and apologetically
examined horses and saddles, whispered his award to the stewards,
and fled at top speed to the official stand -- his sanctuary from the fury
of spurned beauty. The defeated ladies immediately began to "perform" --
that is, to ask the universe at large whether anyone ever heard
the like of that! But the stewards strategically slipped away,
and the injured innocents had no resource left but to ride haughtily
round the ring, glaring defiance at the spectators.

All this time stewards and committee-men were wandering among
the competitors, trying to find the animals for judgment.
The clerk of the ring -- a huge man on a small cob -- galloped around,