But, as he lay in bed, Henry thought the matter over, and, for the first time in his life, felt superstitious.

“It is very odd,” he said, “that old picture my forefathers have worshiped under, and prayed to, no doubt, should flap out in my face like that, the moment I offered to set up my forge among their dead bones.”

Daylight dispersed these superstitious feelings, and the battle began.

As usual, the first step toward making money was to part with it.  He could do nothing without a horse and a light cart.  In Hillsborough they drive magnificent horses in public cabs:  Henry knew one in particular, that had often spun up the steepest hills with him; a brute of prodigious bone and spirit.  He bought this animal for a moderate price, considering his value:  and then the next thing was—­and indeed with some of us it precedes the purchase of the animal—­to learn to ride.

He had only two days to acquire this accomplishment in:  so he took a compendious method.  He went to the circus, at noon, and asked to see the clown.  A gloomy fellow was fished out of the nearest public, and inquired what he wanted.

“The clown.”

“Well, I am the clown.”

“What! you the merry chap that makes the fun?” said Henry, incredulously.

“I make the fun at night,” replied the man, dolefully.  “If you want fun out of me, come and pay your shilling, like a man.”

“But it isn’t fun I’m come for.  I want to learn to ride.”

“Then you are too old.  Why, we begin as soon as we can stand on a horse’s back.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to ride standing.  I want to sit a horse, rearing, or plunging, or blundering over rough ground.”

“What will you stand?”

“A sovereign.”

The clown dived into the public-house, and told a dark seedy man, with his black hair plastered and rolled effeminately, that he had got a bloke who would stand a quid for a mount.  The two came out, and the plastered Italian went to the stables:  the melancholy punster conducted Henry into the arena, and stood beside him like Patience on a monument.  Presently a quiet mare ran in, and stuck.

Henry was mounted, and cantered her round, the two men instinctively following in a smaller circle, with jaws as long as your arm.

“This is delightful,” said Henry; “but I might as well be sitting in a chair.  What I want is a Prancer.”

Then they brought him another horse, just as docile as the mare.  The obedient creature, at a signal, reared suddenly, and seated Mr. Little on the sawdust behind him.  A similar result was attained several times, by various means.  But Henry showed himself so tough, courageous, and persistent, that he made great progress, and his good-humor won his preceptors.  They invited him to come tomorrow, at an earlier hour, and bring half a quid with him.  He did so, and this time there was an American rider rehearsing, who showed Henry what to do, and what not to do; and gave him a most humorous and instructive lesson.  Indeed, his imitations of bad riding were so truthful and funny, that even the clown was surprised into one laugh; he who rarely smiled, unless in the way of business.