'Tis a bore, a horse to ride, Slipping girths from side to side; 'Tis a bore with many pains, For a man to lose the reins. Keep your seat, and keep command, And hold your bridle well in hand: Fast and firm the steed will go. And slips and slides you'll never know. CHAPTER VIII. _How to ride without a Bridle._ "Doctor, what am I to do?" said Mr. Broadcloth, the wealthy tailor of Bond-street. "Here am I, just fifty years of age, now in the prime of life, and cannot enjoy a moment's content. I have forty-nine hands at work for me, in my shop every day, beside piece-work out-doors. I have six runners of errands; four porters, to carry out my goods, and to bring me home work. Beside all this, I have such incessant customers to be measured, and coats to make, that from morning to night I hear nothing but snip go, snip go, snip go! and although I work like a journeyman, I half wish I was one of my own porters, and could go from house to house for fresh air and exercise." "Oh, my dear sir!" said the Doctor, "you must ride on horseback,--you must indeed! you must be a journey-man yourself,--carry out your clothes to Clapham, and find yourself all the better in health and spirits." [Illustration] "Doctor, I have heard that all who can do as you bid them, are sure to recover." "The first of all blessings is health,--for without it Men may think there's enjoyment in life,--but I doubt it." "Then recover yourself, and you will own my advice to be good." "What shall I do for a horse?" "Do as everybody else does,--go to John Tattsall's, and get the horse that will suit you. I shall be glad to see you on one." The tailor was soon mounted;--but it is one thing to be mounted,--another to be seated. He soon complained to Mr. Tattsall, that the horse he had bought of him would not mind the bridle. "Then," says John, "ride him without one. In fact, your horse did belong to a lame letter-carrier, and he never rode him with a bridle. You may have one round his neck by way of a check rein; but this horse, you will find, will never deceive you. "You have nothing to do but to mount, and say, 'Go on:' he will be off in a gentle canter along the gutter, keeping close to the pavement, avoiding the lamp posts, oyster stalls, orange tables, trucks, and barrows; and whenever you say 'Wo-ho,' he will make a dead stop. You may get off, and wait an hour, if you like, he will never stir, but will know how to take care of himself; only give him a bit of carrot or an apple, just to let him know you are his master, as the poor old lame duck did,--and you may mount and say 'Go on,' and 'Wo-ho,' twenty times in a day,--and he will obey you. You will not need a bridle or a rein." Mr. Broadcloth did so,--and never complained of his horse after,--and quite recovered of his complaint.