Punch (99.1890)

December 20, 1890.] PUNCH, OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

289

VOCES POPULI

THE RIDING-CLASS.

Scene—A Riding-school, on a raw chilly afternoon. The gas is
lighted, but does not lend much cheerfulness to the interior, which
is bare and bleak, and pervaded by a bluish haze. Members of
the Class discovered standing about on the tan, waiting for their
horses to be brought in. At the f urther end is an alcove, with a
small balcony, in which Mrs. Bilbow-Kay, the Mother of one of
the Equestrians, is seated with a young female Friend,
Mrs. Bilbow-Kay. Oh, Robert used to ride very nicely indeed
when he was a boy; but he has been out of practice lately, and so, as
the Dootor ordered him horse-exercise, I thought it would be wiser

for him to take a few lessons.
Such an excellent change
for any one with sedentary
pursuits!

The Friend. But isn't
riding a sedentary pursuit,
too ?

Mrs. B.-K. Robebt says
he doesn't find it so.

[Enter the Riding Master.
" Riding Master {saluting
with cane). Evenin', Gentle-
men—your 'orses will be in
directly; 'ope we shall see
some ridin' this time. (Clatter without ; enter Stablemen with horses.)
Let me see—Mr. Bilbow-Kay, Sir, you'd better ride the Shar ; he
ain't been out all day, so he '11 want some 'andlina-. (Mr. B.-K., with
a sickly smile, accepts a tall and lively horse.) No, Mr. Tongs, that
ain't your 'orse to-day—you've got beyond 'im, Sir. We '11 put you
up on Lady Loo ; she's a bit rough till you get on terms with her, but
you '11 be all right on her after a bit. Yes, Mr. Joggles, Sir, you
take Kangaroo, please. Mr. Btjmpas, I've 'ad the Artful Dodger
out for you; and mind he don't get rid of you so easy as he did
Mr. Grippes last time. Got a nice 'orse for you, Mr. 'Abry
Sniggers, Sir—Frar Diavolo. You mustn't take no notice of his
bucking a bit at starting—he '11 soon leave it off.

Mr. Sniggers (who conceals his qualms under a forced facetious-
ness). Soon leave me off. you mean!

R. M. (after distributing the remaining horses). Now then—bring
your 'orses up into line, and stand by, ready to mount at the word of
command, reins taken up in the left 'and with the second and little
fingers, and a lock of the 'orse'g mane twisted round the first.
Mount! That'orse ain't a bicycle, Mr. Sntggebs. [Mr. S. (in an
undertone.) No—worse luck!] Number off! "Walk! I shall give
the word to trot directly, so now's the time to improve your seats—
that back a bit straighter. Mr. 'Oopeb. No. 4, just fall out, and
we '11 let them stirrup-leathers down another 'ole or two for yer.
(iVb. 4, who has just been congratulating himself that his stirrups
were conveniently high, has to see them let down to a distance where
he can just touch them by stretching.) Now you're all comfortable.
["Oh, are we?" from Mr. Trot! Mr."Tongs, Sir. 'old that
'orse in-he's gettin' away with you already. Very bad,
Mr. Joggles, Sir — keep those 'eels down! Lost your stirrup,
Mr. Jelly ? Never mind that—feel for it, Sir. I want you to be
independent of the irons. I'm going to make you ride without
'em presently. (Mr. Jelly shivers in his saddle.) Captin' Croppee,
Sir; if that Volunteer ridgment as you 're goin' to be the Major of
sees you like you are now, on a field-day—they'11 'ave to fall out to
larf, Sir! (Mr. Cropper devoutly wishes he had been less in-
genuous as to his motive for practising his riding.) Now, Mr.
Sniggers, make that 'orse learn 'oo's the master! [Mr. S. " He
knows, the brute!]

Mrs. B.-K. He's very rude to all the Class, except dear Robert—
but then Robert has such a nice easy seat.

The R. M. Mr. Bilbow-Kay, Sir. try and set a hit 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 rut 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
hack 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 I Delphic response

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 'aye all your saddles to let unfurnished. Wa—alk!
Mr. Bilbow-Kay, when your 'orsa changes his .p5ce_ sudden, it
don't look well for you to be found settin' 'aif way up his neck, and
it gives him a bad opinion of yer, Sir. Uncross sterrups! Trot on t
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 '11 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 Tn-cline ! 0' 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.
Captin Cropper, Sir, if you let that curb out a hit more, Reindeer
wouldn't he '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. 8.] —
we '11 'ave the 'urdles in and show you a hit, 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 '11 come in now—
we 're just going to do some jumping.

Assist. R. M. This lot don't look much like going over 'urdles—
'cept in front o' the 'orse, but I'll tell the Captin.

[The hurdles are brought in and propped up. Enter a well-
turned-out Stranger, on a arey cob.

Mr. Sniggers (to him). You ain't lost nothing by coming late. I
can tell yer. We've bin having a gay old time in 'ere—made us ride
without sterrups, he did!

Capt. Headstall. Haw, really ? Didn't get grassed, did you ?

Mr. S. Well, me and my 'orse separated by mutual consent. I
ain't what you call a fancy 'orsoman. We've pot to bo at that
'urdle in a minute. How do you like the ideer, eh ? It's no good
funkina- it—it's got to he done .'

R. M. Now, Captin—not you, Captin Cropper—Captin 'Edstall,
/mean, will you show them the way over, pleaso ?

[Captain H. rides at it; the cob jumps too short, and knocks the
hurdle down—to his rider's intense disgust.

Mr. S. I say, Guv'nor, that was a near thing. I wonder you
weren't off.

Capt. H. I—ah—don't often come off.

Mr. S. You won't say that when you've been 'ere a few times.
You see, they've put you on a quiet animal this journey. I shall
try to get him myself next time. He be'aves like a gentleman,
he does!

Capt. IT. You won't mount him, if you take my advice—he has
rather a delicate mouth.

Mr. S. Oh, I don't mind that—I should ride him on the curb, o'
course. [The Class ride at the hurdle, one by one.

R. M. Now, Mr. Sniggers, give 'im more of 'is 'ed than that,
Sir—or he'll take it. . . Oh, Lor, well, it's soft falling luckily!
Mr. Joggles, Sir, keep him back till you're in a line with it. . .
Better, Sir; you come down true on your saddle afterwards, any-
way! . . . Mr. Parabole! . . . Ah, would you? Told you he was
tricky, Sir! Try him at it again . . . Now—oyer! . . . Yes, and it
is over, and no mistake!

Mrs. B.-K. Now it's Robert's turn. I'm sfraid he's been
overtiring himself, he looks so pale. Bob, you won't let him jnmp

too hieh, will you ?- Oh, I daren't look. Tell me, my love,—is

he snfe ?

Her Friend. Perfectly—they 're just, brushing him down.
Afterwards.

Mrs. B.-K. (to her Son). Oh, Bob, you must never think of
jumping again—it is such a dangerous amusement!

Robert (who has been cursing the hour in which he informed his
parent.o" the exact whereabouts of the school). It's all right with a
horse that knows how to jump. Mine didn't.

The Friend. I thought you seemed to jump a good deal higher than
the horse did. They ought to he trained to keep close under you,
oughtn't they? [Robert wonders if she is as guileless as she looks.

Capt. Cropper (to the R. M.) Oh, takes about eight months, with
a lesson every day, to make a man efficient in the Cavalry, does it ?
But, look here—I suppose four more lessons will put me all right,
eh ? I 'ye had eight, y'know.

R. M. Well, Sir, if you arsk me, I dunno as another arf dozen '11
do you any 'arm—hut, o'course, that's just as you feel about it.

[Captain Cropper endeavours to extract encouragement from, this

vol. xcrs. c'c