"Well, I never did take a cruise on er 'orse, but I takes my gal out one day in a shay. Lord! It were a go an' no mistake! I was got up to kill, and she--well, she was good gear an' you may lay to that. So we ups anchor and off we goes, makin' a fair wind of it, me a-cockin' a chest an' swayin' the main good-oh. It's then that bloomin' sarpint, Old Nick, starts in his little game, an' like another Eve, my Dinah gets her sailin' orders an' whispers kinder soft-like: "'Make 'im go, Bill darlin', lick 'im an' make 'im go! 'An' me like a innocent babe, not twiggin' Old Nick's tactics, begins chucklin' like a hen, an' gives a pull on the yoke-lines. "Well, what does this blighted 'orse do but give a flip out aft, an' go weavin' off like a crazy lunatic, an' we're soon navigatin' under forced draught. My Dinah gives a toot on her siren, an' I lays back on the yoke-lines; but that flat-footed, mud-scatterin' moke ain't takin' no notice, an' just claps on every pound o' steam. "We goes by old Bluelights of the _Hannibal_, and a tiffy, like a torpedo-catcher on 'er steam trials. Bluelights 'e sings out, "'Makin' 'eavy weather of it, Bill?' an' he hits the target that time if he never does afore. "Right ahead there's a tramp loaded down to her Plimsoll mark with coals, an' goin' dead slow. "I rings up the engines for 'ard astern with both screws, but it ain't no use; the next minit we rams him. Lord! It were a giddy-go-round! "My Dinah an' me goes over the bows like bein' shot out of a 5-inch. She lands on the coals, which you can bet has a bad effec' on her flash rig-out; but I up-ends the sleepy skipper o' the coal tramp, an' the pair of us goes overboard, me a-claspin' 'im in my volupshus arms. "We lands soft, an' he turns on me reg'lar frothin' at the mouth. I won't repeat 'is remarks, which is that powerful an' florid it's a treat and er eddication to 'ear 'im. "Then 'e begins to wave 'is spars like a Norwegian flag[13] in a breeze, an' thinks I, 'It's time I tunes up my big bassoon in this bloomin' oratorio'; so I breaks in: "'Refill y'r water-jacket an' cool off, me butter-backed, grimy-eyed blackymoor. Just keep them dingy paws o' yours outer detonatin' contact, or I'll cat an' fish them lovely black eyes o' yours.' "That fair gives him the pip. "'Sock it to 'im, Bill,' screeches my Dinah, from where she's repairin' 'er riggin' on the coal-tramp. "The end of it all is, war is declared and 'ostilities commences. 'E starts in on 'is windmill racket, until I gives 'im one on that protrudin' ram-bow o' his an' drors fust blood. "It's then a bloomin' bladder-bellied peeler comes steerin' down on us and interrupts the jamboree, an' that's the end o' my cruise be'ind a 'orse." "Hosses," remarked Broncho musingly, "are a heap like human bein's. Some is reliable, an' some plumb onreliable.