'There's Dash,' and was in a hurry to doff her crown and royal robe, and
lay down the sceptre and the orb, which she carried in her hands, and go
and give Dash his bath."

I hope this story is literally true, for I have a strong impression that
it was this peculiar love of pets, this sense of companionship with
intelligent, affectionate animals, especially dogs and horses, that with
an ever-fresh delight in riding and dancing, healthful sports and merry
games, was the salvation of the young Queen. Without such vents, the
mighty responsibility of her dizzy position, the grandeur, the dignity,
the decorum, the awful etiquette would have killed her--or at least,
puffed her up with pride, or petrified her with formality. Sir John
Campbell wrote of her at this time: "She is as merry and playful as a
kitten."--I hope she loved kittens! Again he says: "The Queen was in
great spirits, and danced with more than usual gaiety, a romping,
country-dance, called the Tempest."

In addition to this girlish gaiety, Victoria seems always to have had a
vein of un-Guelph-like humor, a keen sense of the ludicrous, a delicious
enjoyment of fun, which are among Heaven's choicest blessings to poor
mortals, royal or republican. Prince Albert's sympathy with her love of
innocent amusement, and her delight in the absurdities and drolleries of
animal as well as of human life and character, was one and perhaps not
the weakest of the ties which bound her to him.

With the young Queen equestrian exercise was more than a pastime, it was
almost a passion. She rode remarkably well, and in her gratitude for this
beautiful accomplishment,--rarer even in England than people think--she
wished as soon as she came to the throne, to give her riding-master,
Fozard, a suitable position near her person, something higher than that