Mr. Sponges Sporting Tour | Page 9

Leather gave him one as quick as thought, and led on the
horse as the lad gathered up his reins. They then made for a large field
at the back of the house, with leaping-bars, hurdles, 'on and offs,' 'ins
and outs,' all sorts of fancy leaps scattered about. Having got him fairly
in, and the lad having got himself fairly settled in the saddle he gave

the horse a touch with the spur as Leather let go his head, and after a
desperate plunge or two started off at a gallop.
'He's fresh,' observed Mr. Buckram confidentially to Mr. Sponge, 'he's
fresh--wants work, in short--short of work--wouldn't put every one on
him--wouldn't put one o' your timid cocknified chaps on him, for if
ever he were to get the hupper 'and, vy I doesn't know as 'ow that we
might get the hupper 'and o' him, agen, but the playful rogue knows ven
he's got a workman on his back--see how he gives to the lad though he's
only fifteen, and not strong of his hage nouther,' continued Mr.
Buckram, 'and I guess if he had sich a consternation of talent as you on
his back, he'd wery soon be as quiet as a lamb--not that he's
wicious--far from it, only play--full of play, I may say, though to be
sure, if a man gets spilt it don't argufy much whether it's done from
play or from wice.'
During this time the horse was going through his evolutions, hopping
over this thing, popping over that, making as little of everything as
practice makes them do.
Having gone through the usual routine, the lad now walked the glowing
coated snorting horse back to where the trio stood. Mr. Sponge again
looked him over, and still seeing no exception to take to him, bid the
lad get off and lengthen the stirrups for him to take a ride. That was the
difficulty. The first two minutes always did it. Mr. Sponge, however,
nothing daunted, borrowed Sam's spurs, and making Leather hold the
horse by the head till he got well into the saddle, and then lead him on a
bit; he gave the animal such a dig in both sides as fairly threw him off
his guard, and made him start away at a gallop, instead of standing and
delivering, as was his wont.
Away Mr. Sponge shot, pulling him about, trying all his paces, and
putting him at all sorts of leaps.
Emboldened by the nerve and dexterity displayed by Mr. Sponge, Mr.
Buckram stood meditating a further trial of his equestrian ability, as he
watched him bucketing 'Ercles' about. Hercules had 'spang-hewed' so
many triers, and the hideous contraction of his resolute back had

deterred so many from mounting, that Buckram had begun to fear he
would have to place him in the only remaining school for incurables,
the 'bus. Hack-horse riders are seldom great horsemen. The very fact of
their being hack-horse riders shows they are little accustomed to horses,
or they would not give the fee-simple of an animal for a few weeks'
work.
'I've a wonderful clever little oss,' observed Mr. Buckram, as Sponge
returned with a slack-rein and a satisfied air on the late resolute
animal's back. 'Little I can 'ardly call 'im,' continued Mr. Buckram,
'only he's low; but you knows that the 'eight of an oss has nothin' to do
with his size. Now this is a perfect dray-oss in miniature. An 'Arrow
gent, lookin' at him t'other day christen'd him "Multum in Parvo." But
though he's so _ter-men_-dous strong, he has the knack o' goin',
specially in deep; and if you're not a-goin' to Sir Richard, but into some
o' them plough sheers (shires), I'd 'commend him to you.'
'Let's have a look at him,' replied Mr. Sponge, throwing his right leg
over Hercules' head and sliding from the saddle on to the ground, as if
he were alighting from the quietest shooting pony in the world.
All then was hurry, scurry, and scamper to get this second prodigy out.
Presently he appeared. Multum in Parvo certainly was all that Buckram
described him. A long, low, clean-headed, clean-necked, big-hocked,
chestnut, with a long tail, and great, large, flat white legs, without mark
or blemish upon them. Unlike Hercules, there was nothing indicative of
vice or mischief about him. Indeed, he was rather a sedate,
meditative-looking animal; and, instead of the watchful, arms'-length
sort of way Leather and Co. treated Hercules, they jerked and punched
Parvo about as if he were a cow.
Still Parvo had his foibles. He was a resolute, head-strong animal, that
would go his own way in spite of all the pulling and hauling in the
world. If he took it into his obstinate head to turn into a particular field,