RIDING MASTER (_saluting with cane_). Evenin', Gentlemen--your 'orses will be in directly; 'ope we shall see some _ridin'_ this time. (_Clatter without; enter Stablemen with horses._) Let me see--Mr. Bilbow-Kay, Sir, you'd better ride the _Shar_; he ain't been out all day, so he'll want some 'andling. (Mr. B.-K., _with a sickly smile, accepts a tall and lively horse_.) No, Mr. Tongs, that ain't _your_ 'orse to-day--you've got beyond _'im_, Sir. We'll put you up on _Lady Loo_; she's a bit rough till you get on terms with her, but you'll be all right on her after a bit. Yes, Mr. Joggles, Sir, you take _Kangaroo_, please. Mr. Bumpas, I've 'ad the _Artful Dodger_ out for you; and mind he don't get rid of you so easy as he did Mr. Gripper last time. Got a nice 'orse for _you_, Mr. 'Arry Sniggers, Sir--_Frar Diavolo_. You mustn't take no notice of his bucking a bit at starting--he'll soon leave it off. [Illustration: "YOU AIN'T NO MORE 'OLD ON THAT SADDLE THAN A STAMP WITH THE GUM LICKED OFF!"] MR. SNIGGERS (_who conceals his qualms under a forced facetiousness_). Soon leave _me_ off you mean! R. M. (_after distributing the remaining horses_). Now then--bring your 'orses up into line, and stand by, ready to mount at the word of command, reins taken up in the left 'and with the second and little fingers, and a lock of the 'orse's mane twisted round the first. Mount! That 'orse ain't a _bicycle_, Mr. Sniggers. [Mr. S. (_in an undertone_). No--worse luck!] Number off! Walk! I shall give the word to trot directly, so now's the time to improve your seats--that back a bit straighter, Mr. 'Ooper. No. 4 just fall out, and we'll let them stirrup-leathers down another 'ole or two for yer. (_No. 4, who has just been congratulating himself that his stirrups were conveniently high, has to see them let down to a distance where he can just touch them by stretching._) Now you're all comfortable. ["Oh, _are_ we?" _from_ MR. S.] Trot! Mr. Tongs, Sir, 'old that 'orse in--he's gettin' away with you already. Very bad, Mr. Joggles, Sir--keep those 'eels down! Lost your stirrup, Mr. Jelly? Never mind that--_feel_ for it, Sir. I want you to be independent of the irons. I'm going to make you ride without 'em presently. (Mr. Jelly _shivers in his saddle_.) Captin' Cropper, Sir; if that Volunteer ridgment as you're goin' to be the Major of sees you like you are now, on a field-day--they'll 'ave to fall out to _larf_, Sir! (Mr. Cropper _devoutly wishes he had been less ingenuous as to his motive for practising his riding_.) Now, Mr. Sniggers, make that 'orse learn 'oo's the master! [Mr. S. "He _knows_, the brute!"] MRS. B.-K. He's very rude to all the Class, except dear Robert--but then Robert has such a nice easy seat.