“I think he will,” said my heartless companion.

“Nevvah you feah, suh,” the man said to me.  “Ah knowed the minute Ah saw yo’ laigs ‘t you was a horseman.  Yassuh!  Ah says t’ ole Gawge, Ah says, ’Dat gemman’s certain’y been ’n de cava’ry, he has, wid dem fine crooked laigs o’ hisn.’”

“You should have told that to Dr. Bell, instead,” suggested my companion.

At this every one laughed.  Even the groom laughed a wheezy, cackling negro laugh.  The situation was becoming unbearable.  Clearly I must try to mount.  Perhaps I should not succeed, but I must try.  As I was endeavoring to adjust my mind to this unpleasant fact the Efficient Sister spoke.

“That horse is going to be ridden,” she said firmly, “if I have to go upstairs and dress and ride him myself.”

That settled it.

“Now you hold him down,” I said to the groom, and stepped forward.

As I did so Dr. Bell reared again, simultaneously drawing back sidewise and turning his flank away from me, but this time the Efficient Sister hit him with a crop she had found somewhere, and he came down hastily, and began to dance a sort of double clog with all four feet.

After several efforts I managed to get beside him.  Gathering the reins in my left hand I put my foot up swiftly, found the stirrup, and with a hop, managed to board the beast.

As I did so, the groom let him go.  Both stirrups were short, but it was too late to discuss that, for by the time I was adjusted to my seat we had traveled, at a run, over a considerable part of the lawn and through most of the flowerbeds.  The shortness of the stirrups made me bounce, and I had a feeling that I might do better to remove my feet from them entirely, but as I had never ridden without stirrups I hesitated to try it now.  Therefore I merely dug my knees desperately into the saddle flaps and awaited what should come, while endeavoring to check the animal.  He, however, kept his head down, which not only made it difficult to stop him, but also gave me an unpleasant sense as of riding on the cowcatcher of a locomotive with nothing but space in front of me.  Once, with a jerk, I managed to get his head up, but when I did that he reared.  I do not care for rearing.

To add to my delight, one of the dogs now ran out and began to bark and circle around us, jumping up at the horse’s nose and nipping at his heels.  This brought on new activities, for now Dr. Bell not only reared but elevated himself suddenly behind, to kick at the dog.  However, there was one good result.  We stopped running and began to trot rapidly about in circles, dodging the dog, and this finally brought us back toward the house.

“My stirrups are too short!” I shouted to the groom.

“Ride oveh heah, suh,” he called back.

I tried to do it, but Dr. Bell continued to move in circles.  At last, however, the man managed to catch us by advancing with his hand extended, as though offering a lump of sugar, at the same time talking gently to my steed.  Then, while my companion held the bit the negro adjusted the stirrup leathers.  I was glad of the breathing spell.  I wished that it took longer to adjust stirrups.