thing he cares a rap about except horses and the inside of a glass, and
he was ramping mad because some of the beastly things had got thrown
away. I hope Lanty is somewhere about.”
Stubbs was immense--very check, very baggy, and very red in the face.
His side-whiskers bristled aggressively, and there was a vicious gleam
in his eye. He was riding a boring chestnut with weak quarters and the
action of a schoolboy in clogs. Harriet dug the person in front of her
with the gamp by way of relieving her feelings. Hamer and Dandy tried
to think of things to say, but she cut them short.
“Oh, it won’t be the first time he’s made fools of us both in public!
I can’t help feeling a bit grubbed, but I suppose I can stick it out.
Anyhow, I’ve got to stop and see him through. Save them hunting me up,
if he goes and breaks his neck.”
She thrust her hands in her pockets and scowled. Lapwing had already
collided with the brown, and Stubbs, ripe for fight, was beginning to
explode. The quiet little boy on Seaman stared in astonishment until
Lancaster, coming up, laid a palm on Lapwing’s poking nose and drew him
out of range. He had some tale ready, peculiarly adapted to Stubbs’
appreciation, and Harriet caught her father’s guffaw as he rode to his
place. She sighed sharply--with relief, Dandy judged--and addressed
herself to shouting “Good lad!” or “Good lass!” with supreme and
delightful unconsciousness of self.
The sleepy Flyer led off, and left everything in ruins behind him,
after which there was a lengthy pause, while rails and bricks were
replaced and furze-tops refixed. Griselda gave a charming illustration
of the so-called feminine temperament, refusing to look at any jump
until forced upon it, and then flying it with a complete trust in
Providence and an absolute disregard of economy. After these, the
performance of the Bluecaster warrior ranked high, in spite of the
roaring and waving accompaniment, and a suggestion of clanking chains
as she rocked past. Carrying her proud head at the noble angle affected
by some ladies much engaged in good works, she yet contrived, by dint
of squinting down her nose at the last moment, to view a jump in time
to clear it, and thundered on to the next in an atmosphere of escaped
earthquakes. In spite of her size and weight, she tackled the trap
quite neatly, and roared down the field to the water. Here she was
superb! On the wings of sound she came, gathered herself into a mighty
bunch, plunged and was over, leaving mingled impressions of trumpets,
bazaar-bunting and a motor-exhaust.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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