friends Dickenson and Jack Parker drove two young ladies in a
carriage,--all the saddle-horses our town could boast of being in use.
We were in high spirits, and rode fast. I was occupied in watching
Folly, who had not been out for several days. At last, tired of tugging
at his mouth, I gave him rein, and he flew along. I tucked the edge of
my skirt under the saddle-flap, slanted forward, and held the bridle
with both hands close to his head. A long sandy reach of road lay
before me. I enjoyed Folly's fierce trotting; but, as I expected, the
good horse Black was on my track, while the rest of the party were far
behind. He soon overtook me. Folly snorted when he heard Black's step.
We pulled up, and the two horses began to sidle and prance, and throw
up their heads so that we could not indulge in a bit of conversation.

"Brute!" said Harry Lothrop,--"if I were sure of getting on again, I
would dismount and thrash you awfully."

"Remember Pickwick," I said; "don't do it."

I had hardly spoken, when the strap of his cap broke, and it fell from
his head to the ground. I laughed, and so did he.

"I can hold your horse while you dismount for it."

I stopped Folly, and he forced Black near enough for me to seize the
rein and twist it round my hand; when I had done so, Folly turned his
head, and was tempted to take Black's mane in his teeth; Black felt it,
reared, and came down with his nose in my lap. I could not loose my
hands, which confused me, but I saw Harry Lothrop making a great leap.
Both horses were running now, and he was lying across the saddle,
trying to free my hand. It was over in an instant. He got his seat, and