“Just watch that man on Billy Buttons,” says your master, coming up to you, “and make up your minds never to do anything that you see him do.  And look at those two ladies who are mounting now, and see how well it is possible to ride without being taught in school, provided one rides enough.  They cannot trot a rod, but they have often been in the saddle half a day at a time in Spanish America, whence they come, and they can ‘lope,’ as they call it, for hours without drawing rein.  They sit almost, but not quite straight, and they have strength enough in their hands to control any of our horses, although they complain that these English bits are poor things compared to the Spanish bit.  You see, they can stay on, although they cannot ride scientifically.”

“And isn’t that best?” asked Nell.

“It is better,” corrects the master.  “The very best is to stay on because one rides scientifically, and that is what I hope that you two will do by and by.  There’s that girl who always brings in bags of groceries for her horse!  Apples this time!”

“Isn’t it a good thing to give a horse a tidbit of some kind after a ride?” asked Nell.

“‘Good,’ if it be your own horse, but not good in a riding-school.  It tends to make the horses impatient for the end of a ride, and sometimes makes them jealous of one another at the mounting-stand, and keeps them there so long as to inconvenience others who wish to dismount.  Besides, careless pupils, like that girl, have a way of tossing a paper bag into the ring after the horse has emptied it, and although we always pick it up as soon as possible, it may cause another horse to shy.  A dropped handkerchief is also dangerous, for a horse is a suspicious creature and fears anything novel as a woman dreads a mouse.”

What is the trouble on the mounting-stand?  Nothing, except that a tearful little girl wants “her dear Daisy; she never rides anything else, and she hates Clifton, and does not like Rex and Jewel canters, and she wants Da-a-isy!”

“But is it not better for you to change horses now and then, and Daisy is not fit to be in the ring to-day,” says your master.  “Jewel is very easy and good-tempered.  Will you have him?”

“No, I’ll have Abdallah.”

“A lady is riding him.”

“Well, I want him.”

It is against the rules for your master to suggest such a thing to you, Esmeralda, but suppose you go up to the mounting-stand and offer to take Jewel yourself and let her have Abdallah.  You do it; your master puts you on Jewel, and sends the wilful little girl away on Abdallah, and then comes up to you and Nell, thanks you, and says, “It was very good of you, but she must learn some day to ride everything, and I shall tell her so, and next time!”

He looks capable of giving her Hector, Irish Hector, who is wilful as the wind, but in reward for your goodness he bestows a little warning about your whips upon Nell, who has a fancy for carrying hers slantwise across her body, so that both ends show from the back, and the whole whip is quite useless as far as the horse is concerned, although picturesque enough with its loop of bright ribbon.