"One little anecdote I must not omit. The reader will naturally suppose that from the time I began to travel the country with my father and mother, I had little leisure or opportunity to acquire any knowledge by reading. I was too much pressed by fatigue, hunger, cold, and nakedness. Still, however, I can not but suppose, as well from my own propensity to obey the will of God, as from my father's wish to encourage my inclinations of this kind, that I continued to repeat my prayers and catechism morning and evening, and on Sundays to read the Prayer-book and Bible. At all events, I had not forgotten to read; for while we were at the house near Rugeley, by some means or other the song of Chevy Chase' came into my possession, which I read over with great delight at our fireside. My father, who knew that my memory was tolerably retentive, and saw the great number of stanzas the ballad contained, said to me, Well, Tom, can you get that song by heart?' To this question I very readily answered, 'Yes.' 'In how long a time?' Why, father, you know I have got such and such work for to-morrow, and what you will set me for the following days I can't tell; however, I can get it in three days.' 'What, perfectly?' 'Yes.' 'Well, if you do that, I'll give you a halfpenny.' Rejoiced at my father's generosity, 'Oh, then, never fear,' said I. I scarcely need add that my task was easily accomplished, and that I then had the valuable sum of a halfpenny at my own disposal."

This way of life lasted until he was nine or ten years old; then came a spell of shoemaking and a violent attack of asthma, aggravated by the stooping position, which continued a year or two longer. The disease was at length removed by the skill of a country apothecary, and a fresh impulse was given to the poor boy's aspirations by the sight of a strongly-contested horse-race at Nottingham. His longings to be allowed to minister in some way to that noble animal became irrepressible; he confided them to his father, and was fortunate enough to be received into the service of a respectable man who kept a training stable near Newmarket. There, being placed on a horse too spirited for his youth, his feebleness, and his inexperience, he got a terrible fall, and what he grieved for more, a dismissal. He was received by another trainer, and dismissed again. At last he made a third application:

"It was no difficult matter to meet with John Watson: he

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was so attentive to stable hours, that, except on extraordinary occasions, he was always to be found. Being first careful to make myself look as like a stable-boy as I could, I came at the hour of four, and ventured to ask if I could see John Watson. The immediate answer was in the affirmative. John Watson came, looked at me with a serious but good-natured countenance, and accosted me first with: 'Well, my lad, what is your business? suppose I can guess; you want a place?' 'Yes, sir.' Who have you lived with?' Mr. Woodcock, on the forest. One of your boys, Jack Clarke, brought me with him from Nottingham.' 'How came you to leave Mr. Woodcock?' 'I had a sad fall from an iron-gray filly, that almost killed me.' 'That is bad indeed. And so you left him?' He turned me away, sir.' That is honest. I like your speaking the truth. So you are come from him to me?' At this question I cast my eyes down, and hesitated; then fearfully answered, 'No, sir.' No! What, change masters twice in so short a time?' 'I can't help it, sir, if I am turned away.' This last answer made him smile." So his character proving satisfactory, he is hired. "My station was immediately assigned me. There was a remarkably quiet three-years-old colt lately from the discipline of the breaker, and of him I was ordered to take charge, instructed by one of the upper boys in every thing that was to be done, and directed to back him, and keep pace with the rest when they went out to exercise, only taking care to keep a straight line, and to walk, canter, and gallop the last. I did not

* * * *

long ride a quiet colt at the tail of the string (on whose back John Watson soon put a new-comer), but had a dun horse, by no means a tame or safe one, committed to my care. I contrived to ride the dun horse through the winter. It was John Watson's general practice to exercise his horses over the flat, and up Cambridge Hill, on the west side of Newmarket; but the rule was not invariable. One wintry day he ordered us up to the Bury hills. It mizzled a very sharp sleet, the wind became uncommonly cutting, and Dun, the horse I rode, being remarkable for a tender skin, found the wind and the sleet, which blew directly up his nostrils, so very painful, that it suddenly made him outrageous. He started from the rank in which he was walking, tried to unseat me, endeavored to set off full speed; and when he found he could not master me so as to get head, began to rear,

snorted most violently, threw out behind, plunged, and used every mischievous exertion of which the muscular powers of a bloodhorse are susceptible. I, who felt the uneasiness he suffered before his violence began, being luckily prepared, sat him as steady and upright as if this had been his usual exercise. John Watson was riding beside his horses, and a groom, I believe it was old Cheevers, broke out into an exclamation, 'I say, John, that is a fine lad!' 'Ay, ay,' returned Watson, highly satisfied, 'you will find, some time or other, that there are few in Newmarket that will match him.' To have behaved with true courage, and to meet with applause like this, especially from John Watson, was a triumph such as I could at this time have felt in no other way with the same sweet satisfaction. My horsemanship had been seen by all the boys, my praises had been heard by them all.

*

Horses, generally speaking, are of a generous and kindly nature. Of their friendly disposition toward their keepers, there is a trait known to every boy who has the care of one of them, which ought not to be omitted. The custom is to rise very early, even between two and three in the morning, when the days lengthen. In the course of the day, horses and boys have much to do. About half-past eight, perhaps, in the evening, the horse has his last feed of oats, which he generally stands to enjoy in the center of his smooth, carefully-made bed of long clean straw, and by the side of him the weary boy will often lie down, it being held as a maxim, a rule without exception, that were he to lie even till morning, the horse would never lie down himself, but stand still, careful to do his keeper no harm. * ***

He must

Except by accident, the race-horse never trots. either walk or gallop; and in exercise, even when it is the hardest, the gallop begins slowly and gradually, and increases till the horse is nearly at full speed. When he has galloped half a mile, the boy begins to push him forward without relaxation for another half-mile. This is at the period when the horses are in full exercise, to which they come by degrees. The boy that can best regulate these degrees among those of light weight is generally chosen to lead the gallop; that is, he goes first out of the stable ard first returns.

In the time of long exercise this is the first brushing gallop. A brushing gallop signifies that the horses are nearly at full speed

before it is over, and it is commonly made at last rather up hill. Having all pulled up, the horses stand some two or three minutes and recover their wind; they then leisurely descend the hill and take a long walk, after which they are brought to water. But

in this, as in every thing else (at least as soon as long exercise begins), every thing to them is measured. The boy counts the

number of times the horse swallows when he drinks, and allows him to take no more gulps than the groom orders, the fewest to the hardest exercise, and one horse more or less than another, according to the judgment of the groom. After watering a gentle gallop is taken, and after that another walk of considerable length; to which succeeds the second and last brushing gallop, which is by far the most severe. When it is over, another pause, thoroughly to recover their wind, is allowed them; then a long walk is begun, the limits of which are prescribed, and it ends in directing their ride homeward.

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'The morning's exercise often extends to four hours, and the evening's to much about the same time. * * * *

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In every stud of horses there are frequent changes; and as their qualities are discovered, one horse is rejected and sold, or perhaps a stranger bought and admitted. It happened on such an occasion that a little horse was brought us from another stud, whence he had been rejected for being unmanageable. He had shown himself restive, and besides the snaffle, was ridden in a check rein. I was immediately placed on his back, and what seemed rather more extraordinary, ordered to lead the gallop as usual. I do not know how it happened, but under me he showed very little disposition to become refractory, and whenever the humor occurred, it was soon overcome. That he was, however, watchful for an opportunity to do mischief, the following incident will discover. Our time for hard exercise had begun perhaps a fortnight or three weeks. As that proceeds the boys are less cautious, each having less suspicion of his horse. I was leading the gallop one morning, and had gone more than half the way toward the foot of Cambridge Hill, when something induced me to call and speak to a boy behind me, for which purpose I rather unseated myself, and as I looked back rested on my left thigh. The arch traitor no sooner felt the precarious seat I had taken, than he suddenly plunged from the path, had his head between his legs, his heels in the air, and exerting all his power of bodily contortion, flung

me from the saddle, with only one foot in the stirrup, and both my legs on the off side. I immediately heard the whole set of boys behind shouting triumphantly: A calf, a calf!' a phrase of contempt for a boy that is thrown. Though the horse was then in the midst of his wild antics, and increasing his pace to a full speed, as far as the tricks he was playing would permit, still, finding I had a foot in the stirrup, I replied to their shouts by a whisper to myself: 'It is no calf yet.' The horse took his usual course, turned up Cambridge Hill, and now rather increased his speed than his mischievous tricks. This opportunity I took, with that rashness of spirit which is peculiar to boys; and notwithstanding the prodigious speed and irregular motion of the horse, threw my left leg over the saddle. It was with the utmost difficulty that I could preserve my balance, but I did; though by this effort I lost hold of the reins, both my feet were out of the stirrup, and the horse for a moment was entirely his own master. But my grand object was gained—I was once more firmly seated, the reins and stirrups were recovered. In a twinkling the horse, instead of being pulled up, was urged to his utmost speed; and when he came to the end of the gallop, he stopped of himself with a very good will, as he was heartily breathed. The short exclamations of the boys, at having witnessed what they thought an impossibility, were the gratifications I received, and the greatest perhaps that could be bestowed.

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I once saw an instance of what may be called the grandeur of alarm in a horse. In winter, during short exercise, I was returning one evening on the back of a hunter that was put in training for the Hunter's Plate. There had been some little rain, and the channel, always dry in summer, was then a small brook, As I must have rubbed his legs dry, if wetted, I gave him the rein, and made him leap the brook, which he understood as a challenge for play; and beginning to gambol, after a few antics, he reared very high, and plunging forward with great force alighted with his fore-feet on the edge of a deep gravel-pit, halffilled with water, so near that a very few inches farther he must have gone headlong down. His first astonishment and fear were so great, that he stood for some time breathless and motionless: then gradually recollecting himself, his back became curved, his ears erect, his hind and fore-legs in a position for sudden retreat; his nostrils, from an inward snort, burst into one loud expression