THE R. M. Mr. Bilbow-Kay, Sir, try and set a bit closer. Why, you ain't no more 'old on that saddle than a stamp with the gum licked off! Can-ter! _You're_, all right, Mr. Joggles--it's on'y his play; set down on your saddle, Sir!... I didn't say on the ground! MRS. B.-K. (_anxiously to her_ SON, _as he passes_). Bob, are you quite sure you're safe? (_To_ FRIEND.) His horse is snorting so dreadfully! R. M. 'Alt! Every Gentleman take his feet out of the stirrups, and cross them on the saddle in front of him. Not your _feet_, Mr. Sniggers, we ain't Turks 'ere! MR. S. (_sotto voce_). "There's _one_ bloomin' Turk 'ere, anyway!" R. M. Now then--Walk!... Trot! Set back, Gentlemen, set back all--'old on by your knees, not the pommels. _I_ see you, Mr. Jelly, kitchin' old o' the mane--I shall 'ave to give you a 'ogged 'orse next time you come. Quicken up a bit--this is a ride, not a funeral. Why, I could _roll_ faster than you're trotting! Lor, you're like a row o' Guy Foxes on 'orseback, you are! Ah, I thought I'd see one o' you orf! Goa-ron, all o' you, you don't come 'ere to _play_ at ridin'--I'll make you ride afore I've done with you! 'Ullo, Mr. Joggles, nearly gone that time, Sir! There, that'll do--or we'll 'ave all your saddles to let unfurnished. Wa--alk! Mr. Bilbow-Kay, when your 'orse changes his pace sudden, it don't look well for you to be found settin' 'arf way up his neck, and it gives him a bad opinion of yer, Sir. Uncross stirrups! Trot on! It ain't no mortal use your clucking to that mare, Mr. Tongs, Sir, because she don't understand the langwidge--touch her with your 'eel in the ribs. Mr. Sniggers, that 'orse is doin' jest what he likes with you. 'It 'im, Sir; he's no friends and few relations! MR. S. (_with spirit_). _I_ ain't going to 'it 'im. If you want him 'it, get up and do it yourself! R. M. When I say "Circle Right"--odd numbers'll wheel round and fall in be'ind even ones. Circle _Right_!... Well, if ever I--I didn't tell yer to fall _off_ be'ind. Ketch your 'orses and stick to 'em next time. Right In-_cline_! O' course, Mr. Joggles, if you prefer takin' that animal for a little ride all by himself we'll let you out in the streets--otherwise p'raps you'll kindly follow yer leader. Captain Cropper, Sir, if you let that curb out a bit more, _Reindeer_ wouldn't be 'arf so narsty with yer.... Ah, now you _'ave_ done it. You want _your_ reins painted different colours and labelled, Sir, you do. 'Alt, the rest of you.... Now, seein' you're shook down in your saddles a bit--["_Shook_ up'_s_ _more like it_!" _from_ Mr. S.]--we'll 'ave the 'urdles in and show you a bit o' Donnybrook! (_The Class endeavours to assume an air of delighted anticipation at this pleasing prospect._) _To_ Assistant R. M., (_who has entered and said something in an undertone_.) Eh, Captin' 'Edstall here, and wants to try the grey cob over 'urdles? Ask him if he'll come in now--we're just going to do some jumping.