A group of ragged and vicious boys, attracted by the strange figure cut by the major in his uniform, commenced dividing their jibes between him and his horse, evincing not the slightest respect for either.  The question which should mount first was now mooted.  The major insisted that he would see his superior officer first in the saddle; while the general argued, with equal plausibility, that courtesy demanded that the major should mount first, he being the guest of the city.  They debated the point for some time; and at last compromised the matter by agreeing to mount together.  This difficulty being settled, another of equal importance arose.

“You have brought me another man’s horse,” said the general, in an angry tone; “and if I am known for my horsemanship, I value myself too much to be kicked off by a colt.”

“Faith, sir,” replied the groom, “the horse is your own, and no other man’s; and a horse of steady enough habits he is, too.”

The general, however, continued to pronounce him a strange horse, and refused to be convinced until he had applied his spectacles.

And now, matters being arranged to their satisfaction, they mounted amidst the shouts and screams of the boys; which was not to be wondered at, for I venture to asset that young New York had never before seen a major so strangely mounted.  The noise and confusion, however, was something old Battle was not accustomed to, for, though he was an horse of uncommon good behavior, he now pricked up his head and tail, and gave out such proofs of the youth that yet remained in his bones, that it was with difficulty his rider could manage him.  The general, meanwhile, coursed up Broadway with the lightness of a well mounted dragoon, turning in his saddle now and then to ascertain what had become of the major, who, by dint of hard labor, had got old Battle into a three-jog trot, and his head in the right direction.  The mischievous urchins, however, continued to harass his rear, and so belabored his gambrels with whatever came to hand, that he increased his pace wonderfully, and at the same time made it so difficult for the major to keep his saddle that he completely lost his temper, and swore he would ride over the whole of them.  But they ceased not to tease him; in truth, an urchin more mischievous than the rest, lighted a bunch of fire crackers he had tied to the end of a rod, and, with wicked intent, applied them to old Battle’s tail, so frightening him with the explosions that he took to his heels and dashed up Broadway like a colt of three years, spreading consternation among the promenaders, and causing numerous timid people to seek shelter in doors.  In truth, I very much doubt whether John Gilpin ever frightened so many people, or caused so many to look with astonishment.  Onward he dashed, passing omnibuses and other vehicles without number, (all of which made way for him,) until he reached the New York Hotel, where he came up with the general, whose horse took it into his head not to be outdone by so shabby a charger, and, giving one or two springs, dashed up Broadway with the fleetness of an Arabian filly.