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There was a furrin trooper's orse not far off that had lost his rider, and had got his rein hunder his foreleg, so Betty caught him and brought him to where I was a sitting. By the haid of another pull at the canteen, which put new life into me, and by their hassistance, I was got on the saddle, and he and Betty steadied me on the hanimal, and led me off.
Leonore D'Alloi was a far greater beauty than her mother had ever been. But to Peter, it was merely a renewal of his dream. Just at this point the groom rode up. "Beg pardon, Miss D'Alloi," he said, touching his cap. "My 'orse went down on a bit of hice." "You are not hurt, Belden?" said Miss D'Alloi. Peter thought the anxious tone heavenly. He rather wished he had broken something himself. "No.
I believe you are a plucky little girl. Well, I'd just as lief give you a lesson straight away, for you'll have to take your part in the show in a week from now. We'll let her ride round the arena on Greased Lightning; eh, Sarah?" "Oh, I wouldn't! Not on that 'orse," said the woman. She clasped her hands imploringly together.
Some of the troopers shaded their eyes with their hands and said: "What the mischief as that there 'orse got on 'im!" In another minute they heard a neigh that every soul horse and man in the Regiment knew, and saw, heading straight towards the Band, the dead Drum-Horse of the White Hussars!
William had been heavily hit last week through overlaying his book against a horse he didn't believe in, and the whole bar joined in the laugh against him. "I don't say nothing about bookmaking," said Journeyman; "but there's a great many women nowadays who is mighty sharp at spotting a 'orse that the handicapper had let in pretty easy."
Joe had a bow-and-arrow in his hand, and said, "He's a good furrer 'orse, eh, Dad? Smith SAID you could n't pull him out of it." Shall I ever forget the look on Dad's face! He brandished the scraper and sprang wildly at Joe and yelled, "Damn y', you WHELP! what do you want here?" Joe left. The horse lay in the furrow. Blood was dropping from its mouth.
'There ain't no sort of orse that I ain't bred, and no sort of dorg. Orses and dorgs is some men's fancy. They're wittles and drink to me lodging, wife, and children reading, writing, and Arithmetic snuff, tobacker, and sleep. 'That ain't a sort of man to see sitting behind a coach-box, is it though? said William in my ear, as he handled the reins.
I don't mean to say anything, my Lord Duke, against the man. But if that fellow hadn't been squared, or else wasn't drunk, or else wasn't off his head, that 'orse must have won, my Lord Duke." "I do not know anything about racing, Major Tifto." "I suppose not, your Grace.
"Take the ten half-crowns out in drinks, guv'nor, that's good enough. What do you say, guv'nor?" "What, ten half-crowns?" William answered angrily. "Haven't I shown you that the 'orse was backed at Tattersall's the day you made the bet at eight to one?" "Ten to one, guv'nor." "I've not time to go on talking.... You're interfering with my business. You must get out of my bar." "Who'll put me out?"
We was in the same battery of 'Orse Artillery at Ali Musjid, an' we went up along of Lord Kitchener to Khartoum. An' they shot Bob yesterday. Through the 'ead, clean, an' 'e never spoke another word." "Through the loop-'ole o' the parapet, it was," went on the wounded man.
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