Several times I was asked if I would like to risk my life behind this steed, and gladly consented, as Mr. Hartwell was a first-rate whip and most cheery companion. It was arranged during one of these drives that we should meet Lord William on the Lucknow Racecourse to see a pony he thought would suit me, put over the jumps. We arrived safely at the appointed spot, Mr. Hartwell put me down and took the pony and cart a little distance away to wait until we were ready, the pony raising no objection to standing. After the matter of trying the pony Lord William thought would suit me, it was agreed that both Mr. Hartwell and Lord Bill should come back and refresh at our bungalow, his lordship said he would jump up behind us on the cart; he received the same instructions as myself, namely, to nip in quick, the moment our Jehu took hold of the reins; this was safely accomplished by both of us, and off we shot like a rocket. The syce in his anxiety to give the place of honour behind to Lord Bill, did not leave himself quite enough foothold, and was shot off at the first rear and bound given by the pony, given just to express pleasure at being on the move again. Mr. Hartwell was the only person or thing in the cart retaining a firm and upright position, Lord William was heard to say “By Jove,” I was speechless shuffling back into my seat trying to look as if I had never left it, the syce I heard later was last seen tearing frantically in rear of the cart, after falling flat on his face and losing his puggery, which was flying out in yards and streams behind him as he ran trying to re-wind it round his head. I was too busy holding on to turn my head to see what had happened to anybody. After this preliminary all went well, as we proceeded to drive round the course to have a look at the pony jumps, the grey roan flinging himself along delightfully though keeping us in a state of expectancy, when my lord and master, who had been on duty and delayed, therefore not able to be present at the trial of the new pony, came galloping up in hot haste to overtake us. This was the signal evidently to the roan that a race was on, it was really thrilling, and instead of going straight home as we had intended after inspecting the jumps, we were raced round the racecourse at top speed about three-quarters of the way, then on one wheel were hurruished down an awkward dip and carried like birds through the Barrack Square, then on through a mango tope, where Lord William disappeared. Various people who saw us _en route_ were pleased to be funny about our appearance, and one or two sketches were made, in one of which Lord William was supposed to be holding me on to the seat, but looked much more as if trying to sit on my head.