“Yes, yes,” hastily broke in the story-teller with a note of deprecation in his voice. “Don’t you see, girls, that having just belittled him, I had to give him the credit of it, though really we horses—But there, I won’t go into that now.” “That much is saved!” muttered the cob. “Walpole,” said the polo pony, “well described a certain period of life when he denied that a man was in his dotage, but suggested that he was in his ‘anecdotage.’” “It was far from my intention—” Reveille began, with dignity. “I do wish you would bridle your tongues, the two of you,” snapped Bubbles. “It’s just what I should expect of a colt that has never seen anything better than a poplar ball and a wooden mallet, and so dislikes to hear of real battles. Please pay no heed to him, Mr. Reveille.” “We don’t notice either of them one curb or snaffle bit,” declared Lassie, “so why should you? Forgive me for interrupting you, and do tell us what you told the steeds about our Major?” Reveille hesitated, and then resumed his tale: “‘His battery held the Weldon railroad without any infantry supports,’ I told them, adding, ‘Sheridan’s right-hand man. Perfect devil at fighting, and the kindest human in the world.’ “The roan filly, being a woman, answered: ‘He looks both;’ but the grey, being something more stupid, remarked: ‘Then what made you think he had sold you?’ “‘Dear Mr. Solitaire,’ cried the mare, ‘you must know that we all say things in society, not because we think them, but to make conversation. I knew Mr.—thank you, Mr. Reveille—was joking the moment he spoke.’ I tell you, gentlemen, women can put the blinders on facts when they really try! “‘What do you think of my Felicia?’ asked Miss Gaiety. “I had been so taken up with my dear that I hadn’t so much as looked at hers. But, oh, fellows, she was a beauty! Filly built, right through—just made to be shown off by a habit; hair as smooth as a mare’s coat, and as long and thick as an undocked tail; eyes—oh, well, halter it! there is no use trying to describe her eyes, or her nose, or her mouth, or her smile. She was just the dearest, loveliest darling that I ever did see! “Mr. Lewis was putting her up, while my poor dear stood watching them, with a look in his face I had never seen. Now, when there was anything to be done, my Major was always the man who did it, and it puzzled me why he had let Mr. Lewis get the better of him. The next instant I saw that his right arm was still in a sling, and that his sword-sash was used to tie it to his body. Then I knew why he had an up-and-down line in his forehead, and why he bit his mustache. “‘Can I give you any help, Major Moran?’ asked Mr. Lewis, when he had helped Miss Fairley mount.